The White Room
by Daring Duo
Summary: Sheppard seems to have lost his mind and no one can figure out why.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately we do not own or have any rights to Stargate Atlantis or its characters.

**Author's Note: **This takes place immediately after "The Game" and has some spoilers about that episode. Warning for excessive whumpage - if you don't like that then don't read.

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 1**

John moved his queen across the chess board. "Check mate . . . again."

Rodney's eyebrows shot up as he leaned forward, studying the game before him for some sign of error. "No, no, no, that's so not possible. There is no way you beat me again."

John looked up, a small smile flickering at the corners of his mouth. "That's two out of three and I'm done."

"Oh, no you're not. Best three out of five. I don't know how, but you have to be cheating and I'm going to figure it out this game." Rodney immediately began setting the chess board back up.

John sighed and shook his head. "No, not today. I've got a headache the size of Mt. Rushmore. I think I'll see if I can weasel some Tylenol out of Carson." He pushed his chair back and stood up.

Rodney paused, his hand in the air gripping a knight. "I'm sorry, I thought you said you were voluntarily going to see Carson."

"I did, just for Tylenol."

Rodney frowned and began putting the chess game back in the box. "Well, wait and I'll walk with you, because I've really got to see this."

John grimaced and turned around, walking out of the room as Rodney put the lid on the box and jumped up so fast he almost knocked his chair over. "I said wait," he called as he rushed to join the colonel. "How long have you had this headache?"

John ran his hand through his hair as they walked. "Since yesterday. I think all that beaming back and forth from the Daedalus gave it to me, cause that's about the time it started and it got worse every time."

Rodney frowned and shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous, beaming can't give you a headache. If it could, I'd probably have one and I don't. It must be something else, tension maybe."

"Rodney, I wasn't any more tense about that situation than a thousand others we've been through. Why would that . . . " John suddenly grabbed the side of his head with his right hand and stumbled left into the wall, hitting it with his shoulder and arm with a grunt.

"Colonel!" Rodney hurried to the pilot's side and put one hand on John's arm, the other on his back as he tried to steady him. "What's wrong? Colonel?" Getting no response from John other than his quickened breathing, he reached up for his radio. "We need a medical team to Section 3D."

John tried desperately to breathe through the pain in his head. All he could see was white while random sounds and voices buzzed in his head. Scenes from his past and scenes from a time he didn't know began playing through his mind, jumbled and moving so fast he could barely identify anything. Things in writing, a language he did and didn't understand, the meaning coming and going too quickly to be coherent. Something pulled at him and he fought it, pulling back away. He yelled as he threw himself back, connecting with something solid that helped him remain upright. Forcing his eyes open, he was unaware of his heart beating wildly in his chest or his quick, labored breathing.

"Colonel, are you all right?"

The man in front of him looked scared and that made him scared. Looking around, he thought he recognized the walls, but he couldn't remember where he'd seen them before. The man came forward, his hands outstretched and John backed up another step, automatically drawing his weapon and aiming it at the threat.

"No, wait, Sheppard, you better not shoot me. What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?" He reached up to touch the side of his face. "Sheppard's flipping out and I need some back up here, preferably before he shoots me."

John felt a bit of satisfaction at seeing the blood drain from the man's face as he backed away, obviously terrified. He was a bit dismayed to see his own hand shaking, and he was having a hard time focusing, the lights still flashing in his head and noises still buzzing around him. It sounded almost like hundreds of people whispering at the same time and he just wanted it to stop.

"Colonel . . . put the gun down. We just want to help you."

"Colonel!" Another voice from behind him. He wheeled around to see three people with a stretcher and they were looking straight at him. That meant they had probably come for him.

"No, leave me alone!" He ran toward the man nearest him and pushed him down, running past him and down the hall. He had just turned the corner when he felt like he'd run into an electrified brick wall and then he felt nothing.

oOo

Carson and Elizabeth stood beside John's bed with his team on the other side. Rodney had filled Carson in about what had happened and everything John has said the minute they got him to the infirmary. Since then, Carson had run a whole battery of tests before they finally admitted the team members back to stay with John.

"How can you still not know anything?" asked Rodney.

Carson sighed and looked at Rodney, annoyance in his face. "It's not that I don't know anything, it's just that I can't explain what is happening to the Colonel and why. For one thing, Ronon's stunner disrupted all his neural pathways for a bit."

Ronon shrugged his shoulders. "He was freaked out and running. We needed to stop him."

"Well, that you did, lad," said Carson. "But that delayed us getting any viable information about his nervous system. What we do have, though, suggests an elevated level of brain activity."

Rodney made a sound halfway between choking and laughing. "_This_ is elevated brain activity? I guess it's a good thing it's elevated or he'd be dead."

"Rodney," Elizabeth warned. "Carson, please continue."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. Even though some functions are elevated, they are activating in a very random, rapid pattern. I'm afraid the erratic nature is probably confusing and disorienting, not to mention the sensory overload."

A low moan drew their attention and they all watched closely as John opened his eyes and blinked several times. He drew in a sharp breath and his hand went immediately to the side of his head as he tightly closed his eyes.

"Colonel," said Carson softly as he reached down to touch John's arm. "I need you to open your eyes for me lad."

"He obviously has a headache and we all know you're going to shine that light in his eyes. I'd keep my eyes shut too," said Rodney sympathetically.

John now had both hands on the sides of his head and seemed to be struggling to say something. Teyla gripped his shoulder firmly.

"We are here, John."

"Make . . . them . . . stop." His voice was whispered and strained, as if forced out through an intense wave of pain.

"Make who stop?" asked Elizabeth.

It was several moments before John answered, but they waited, almost afraid to breathe.

"Voices . . . people . . . "

John suddenly let out a yelp and rolled to his left, knocking a totally unprepared Teyla and Rodney to the ground. He landed on them with a plop, stunning them both. He began scrambling to get away, fighting their uncoordinated attempts to grab him. Rolling to one side, he got to his feet and ran across the infirmary in his bare feet, panic in his eyes.

"Aufruge!" he yelled wildly as he ran out the door, Ronon already taking off behind him.

"Ronon, don't stun him this time!" called Carson firmly.

"No promises," the former runner replied as he disappeared from view.

Elizabeth and Carson helped Rodney and Teyla get to their feet. "What was that he said?" asked Teyla.

Rodney glanced at Elizabeth before looking back to Teyla. "He said run . . . but he said it in Ancient."

"Ancient?" said Carson, his brow creasing in confusion. "How is he speaking Ancient?"

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. The last time I checked, he didn't know any Ancient, to speak or read."

Elizabeth reached up to activate her radio. "Major Lorne, where are you?"

"_Armory, ma'am."_

"I need to you put together a team to locate Colonel Sheppard. He's still disoriented and he just ran out of the infirmary. Ronon's already tracking him, but he may need help getting the colonel back. Use minimal force necessary and return him to the infirmary when you find him."

"_Understood. We'll find him."_

Elizabeth looked at Carson. "And we have no idea what's going on, what caused this?"

Carson shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it. And the Colonel hasn't interacted with any strange alien or Ancient devices in quite a while, at least not that I'm aware of."

Three sets of eyes looked at Rodney. "What? Oh, right, I'm automatically to blame. Well, before you ask, no I haven't had him activating anything. Maybe something on that planet or something on the _Daedalus_ set him off. He did say that's when his headache started."

"Wait a minute," said Elizabeth. "Did you say brain activity had increased?"

"Aye," replied Carson.

"And now he's suddenly speaking Ancient?"

"Elizabeth, what are you thinking?" asked Rodney.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, chewing on her lower lip for a second. "I need to go back and check, but I think when Jack O'Neill had that Ancient repository of knowledge downloaded into his brain, there was a dramatic increase in brain activity. And he suddenly started speaking Ancient. But I'm pretty sure the physical effects and the onset of his sudden language abilities were much different than this."

Now it was Carson's turn to look thoughtful. "Find the information anyway, even if you have to send back to Earth for it. There could be some sort of connection."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm going back to my office to see what I can find. Let me know if they bring John in."

"I'll go see what I can find in the data base," said Rodney, following Elizabeth out the door.

Teyla looked at Carson. "I guess I will see if I can help find John." She nodded to the doctor as she left the infirmary.

Carson looked around the room. "And I guess I'll just wait here." He stood there for a few seconds before snapping his fingers. "The medical data base! I'll be looking in the medical data base." He looked around the room again. "And who am I telling this to?"

oOo

John ran. He didn't know why, he just knew he had to run, to try to escape the random pictures and language that was fast forwarding through his head. He could barely see where he was going through the haze, like a holographic viewscreen that wouldn't go away. Voices and noises ran through his head as well and he couldn't understand any of it. Nothing made any sense. Pain and confusion and blind panic were all that he knew. So he just ran and ran and ran.

oOo

Ronon caught sight of something white just dodging around the corner. Sheppard had headed for the uninhabited part of the city, making his capture a little more difficult. Ronon wasn't sure if he was more lucid than he appeared or if he went that way by instinct or if he was just operating on luck. Whatever the case, something was definitely wrong with the man.

He came to a fork in the corridor. The hall on his left was rather short, while the one on his right was three times as long. Ronon went for the short corridor, reasoning that if Sheppard had taken the other path, he would have seen at least a glimpse of white. The fact that he was wearing white scrubs had made him easier to spot in the darkened hallways. Sheppard seemed to be running in pure panic, making it unlikely that he would have the forethought to try to hide, which meant Ronon could ignore doors along the corridor.

He turned another corner to see that flash of white again. He wasn't far behind Sheppard. It was only a matter of time before he caught up to the soldier. At the next intersection, he met up with Lorne and a team of marines.

"He's this way," Ronon directed.

Lorne nodded as he fell in beside him. "Figured. We got him on the LSD. Looks like he's heading for the east pier. Does the Doc know what the problem is yet?"

"Nope. Just that Sheppard's crazy right now. Don't know why."

They both saw the door to the pier closing just ahead. "There he goes," said Lorne. He motioned for half of his men to head down the hall to cover the other door. He looked up at Ronon as they paused by the door to the outside. "Ready?"

Ronon nodded. "Doc doesn't want us to stun him if we don't have to."

Lorne nodded grimly. "Okay, but we may not have much choice. The Colonel can be kind of dangerous when he's not on your side. And I don't think he's on anyone's side right now."

Ronon nodded in agreement. "We'll do what we have to do." He pushed the door open and they walked outside onto the pier. The wind was blowing, but not too hard and the temperature was only slightly cool. They immediately spotted Sheppard at the edge of the pier, looking down at the water several feet below.

They slowly moved in closer, expecting the colonel to turn around and see them, but he seemed mesmerized by the waves below.

"Colonel," called Lorne into the wind. Not sure if the pilot had heard him, he called again, only louder. "Colonel, it's Lorne. Sir, we need you to come back with us."

Sheppard turned around and looked at Lorne and Ronon and then up at the sky. They couldn't tell if he was actually seeing them or not. Lorne was debating whether they should try to move closer or not, when Sheppard turned and walked off the edge of the pier, quickly disappearing from sight.

"Colonel!" he yelled, his gut automatically tightening into a knot. "Call for a med team," he yelled as he began stripping off his vest and weapons. He could see Ronon in his peripheral vision, making his way to the edge of the pier as he also removed anything that could weight him down. Ronon dived off the edge just as Lorne reached it. He turned to the marine at his side. "Rig us a harness to pull him up with," he ordered right before he dove off into the water.

Lorne surfaced and scanned the water, immediately seeing Ronon swimming toward a dark, bobbing head. He began swimming in that direction. The water was cold, a lot colder than he had expected and hitting it had taken his breath away. He swam as hard as he could, but didn't feel like he was making any progress toward saving his current CO. He had come to trust and respect Sheppard more than anyone else he'd served under. He appreciated the way Sheppard was not only loyal to his men, but he listened to them and respected their opinions. He made the soldiers feel like each of them mattered and were important to him and to Atlantis.

Lorne was almost relieved to see that Ronon was within a few yards of Sheppard when the pilot's head suddenly dipped under the surface. Lorne had been tiring, but fear sent a new rush of adrenalin through his system and fueled his tiring arms and legs to swim faster. By the time he reached where the Colonel had gone under, Ronon had found him and was trying to get his face out of the water. Lorne swam up beside him and helped take some of Sheppard's dead weight. He was unconscious and Lorne could only hope he was breathing. They began swimming toward the pier, each pulling Sheppard's limp form through the cold water.

By the time they reached the pier, the marines had a harness lowered and waiting. The two men worked with almost numb fingers to get Sheppard into the harness. They tread water as they watched his body lifted out of the water and pulled up to the pier. A few seconds later, the harness came back down. Ronon nodded for Lorne to go first, and he didn't argue, pulling the straps around his torso and securing it. They lifted him up and over the edge, his feet on solid ground just a minute or so later.

As soon as the harness was off, someone threw a blanket on him and he watched as they rolled Sheppard to his side, where he coughed and sputtered, water spilling out of his mouth. Returning him to his back, the medical personnel moved Sheppard to a stretcher and covered him with a blanket, one of them putting an oxygen mask on his face. His eyes were closed and his wet skin pale.

"Doc?"

Carson turned to him as the two nurses raised the gurney and rolled it off. "Major, how are you?"

Lorne continued to watch the stretcher with his CO as he answered. "Cold and wet, but fine other than that. How's the Colonel?"

"He swallowed some water, but he was still breathing. He's chilled, as I'm sure the two of you are, but he wasn't in the water long enough to get hypothermic. His little swim isn't what's worrying me. That I can deal with."

Lorne nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Ronon walked up to stand beside Lorne, one of the marines throwing a blanket around him as well. "Sheppard?"

Carson sighed. "He's mostly cold and wet, like the two of you. Our main problem is figuring out what caused him to run like that in the first place. Still, I need to go check him out and get him warmed up. I expect to see the two of you in the infirmary in a few minutes." The physician turned and headed across the pier.

oOo

Carson walked out to meet Sheppard's team, waiting for him in the outer part of the infirmary. They stood as they saw him coming and he noticed Lorne there waiting as well. He eyed the major and Ronon, noticing they had on dry clothes.

"Did someone check you two out?" he asked, forever worrying about all his charges.

Lorne nodded. "Yeah, we were both examined. They told us just to get warm and dry and try to stay that way for a while. I've got the dry part, but getting warm again might take a little longer. Mostly we're worried about the Colonel."

"Carson?" asked Elizabeth, not bothering to finish the question.

"Physically, he's fine. We've got him dried off and he's under a warming blanket. He did get chilled as expected, but not enough to lower his core temperature significantly. He swallowed a bit of water, but most of that he's coughed up or thrown up. We had him on oxygen for a bit as a precaution, but we've taken him off now that we've established he's okay."

"Is he awake?" asked Ronon.

Carson sighed and looked down at the floor for a moment. "He's . . . his eyes are open but he's unresponsive. He's catatonic at the moment. And since I have no idea what's causing this, I have no idea how long it will last."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 2**

_He heard his name. Different voices saying it. Some of them were loud, some were soft. Some sounded angry and some almost musical and soothing. He tried to ignore the voices. They were outside his head and the voices inside his head were loud enough. Too many voices, all vying for his attention. Crying out in waves that made his head hurt. He didn't know how to tune them out or turn them off. He tried and tried to will them away, but they wouldn't leave him. Instead they remained, a constant buzzing in his brain and he wanted to scream at them to leave him alone, but he couldn't remember how to make the sounds or form the words. So he tried to hum in his head. Silently. _

_There was more than sound in his head. There were images. Quicksilver and sometimes painful. Bright flashes of white, sometimes flashes of color. Sometimes red and rich and suffocating and he felt like he couldn't catch his breath. He was afraid of the red and he didn't know why and he couldn't ask anyone to explain it to him._

_He recognized some of the faces and places that flashed in his head. Some were so familiar he wished he could freeze them so that he could touch them. If he could touch them then maybe they would make sense. Some of the flashes made him twitch, his body jolting in reaction to unfamiliar faces and things. _

_But none of that was as terrifying as the hands that touched him. Hands that moved over his body, gripping him and moving him and forcing him to do things he didn't want to do. Hands that made him cold sometimes and hot the next. Hands that didn't feel the way the voices sounded. Hands that made him want to run away._

_There were other things that touched him too. Something cold touched his lips. Cold and hard and pushing against his mouth. He wanted it gone. He wanted to tell it to go away. He opened his mouth and something wet and warm trickled onto his tongue. He coughed a bit and a musical voice whispered in his ear. He didn't understand what it was saying. Then a hand touched his arm, rubbing against the grain of his skin and he wanted to pull away but his body wouldn't listen to him anymore. So he swallowed the wetness and the hand slipped away. So he swallowed again and again when the cold thing touched his mouth. Swallowing the warm wetness made him feel safe from the touch of the hand._

OoO

Rodney entered the infirmary and made his way to the curtained corner, where Sheppard was ensconced. Carson felt that Sheppard had earned the right to privacy during his present state of being. Rodney agreed with him there. It was hard to see the Colonel just lying there, eyes wide open and staring at nothing. Which was why Rodney spent most of his time in his lab, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with Sheppard. So far he had nothing, but looking for something was better than staring at his catatonic friend.

Still, he forced himself to pull aside the curtain, only to freeze as he realized Teyla was feeding Sheppard his dinner. Which consisted of broth. For the past three days it was the only thing they could get him to take, and only from Teyla's hand.

For a moment, Rodney remained where he was, watching as Teyla finished feeding Sheppard the soup. He watched as she praised him for finishing the cupful, then she wiped his mouth with a napkin and Rodney swore he saw Sheppard flinch. Or maybe it was just a muscle twitch. Or maybe Rodney's eyes were playing tricks on him. He hadn't slept all that much in the past three days and he had been staring at computer screens for most of his waking hours.

A hand touched his arm and Rodney jumped, turning to glare at Carson.

The Doc shrugged at him. "Sorry, Rodney. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Well if you wouldn't sneak up on me, I wouldn't be startled!" Rodney snapped. He wasn't angry with Carson, he was just angry and he needed to vent it somehow.

"Of course," Carson replied, smiling a strained smile, which let Rodney know that he understood. "Have you found anything?" Carson then asked, looking hopeful.

Rodney sighed and shook his head. "Nothing. You?" He silently begged Carson to say yes.

But tired eyes glimmered with sadness. "There are no changes and nothing in the medical data base. I can't explain Colonel Sheppard's present condition. Other than his catatonic state, every test I've done shows him to be in perfect health."

"Then all your stupid tests are wrong!" Rodney yelled, the sound of his voice so sharp and loud and sudden that he made himself jump.

"Rodney!" It was Teyla who hissed his name.

He stared at her, feeling guilty, but too mulishly stubborn to apologize. He looked over her shoulder at Sheppard, who hadn't moved. Or had he? Rodney studied the pale, still form, eyes traveling from the dark head to the blanket-covered legs and his eyes went wide. Sheppard's right hand was gripping the blanket in a tight fist. That was a first. But before Rodney could point it out to anyone, Carson was bustling over to Sheppard and pulling his covers down. Rodney watched Sheppard's hand go limp and felt like something important had just slipped away from him.

Carson was working on getting Sheppard out of bed. He turned to look at Rodney. "Will you help me get him to the bathroom?"

"Uh, sure," Rodney replied, moving reluctantly. He didn't want to touch Sheppard like this. It was stupid, because he knew it wasn't as if the Colonel was contagious and Rodney would catch whatever was causing his condition, but it spooked him to see Sheppard so still and child like. It was creepier still to see how obediently he obeyed a simple touch command. Like being led to the bathroom and letting Carson guide him into performing bodily functions. Rodney also knew that Ronon had taken Sheppard for a shower yesterday, basically stripping down with him and washing him up. The Sheppard before Rodney was like a life-sized doll, just waiting to be positioned however a person liked. This Sheppard wasn't the man Rodney had come to think of as his best friend. A fact he'd never openly admit to anyone, least of all to Sheppard, but Rodney believed the Colonel knew it was implied and that he might even feel the same way about Rodney.

"Come now, Colonel," Carson was saying, drawing Rodney out of his reverie. So, together, they eased Sheppard towards the bathroom. 

Rodney waited outside for Carson to do his thing with Sheppard. He paced as he waited, feeling frustrated about everything and everyone at this moment. A few moments later, Carson guided the Colonel back out and they brought him back to bed. Rodney let Carson get him settled in, feeling useless as he paced again. When Sheppard was lying back against the pillows, covered up and staring at nothing, Rodney found himself watching his right hand, willing the Colonel to make a fist again. But nothing happened.

Carson startled Rodney again but touching his arm. "Are you all right?" he queried, looking worried.

"I'm fine!" Rodney snapped, even though he wasn't. All things considered, how could he be? He locked eyes with Carson. "How do we fix Sheppard?" He prayed the Doc had an answer for him, even though Rodney knew he wouldn't.

"I wish I knew," Carson replied, sounding as frustrated as Rodney felt. "Elizabeth is still searching the data base and I know she's been in contact with Earth. At this point there's nothing we can do but be patient."

An angry retort was on the tip of Rodney's tongue, but he swallowed it down. Carson didn't deserve his ire. The problem was that there was no one he could blame. What was happening to Sheppard didn't make sense. It's like it just happened. And what made it worse was that if something out of the ordinary had happened to cause this, which it must have done, only Sheppard could tell them what it was. Only he couldn't do that, not in a present state. Which meant they were left in the dark, with no clue where to find the light switch. Which made Rodney all the more upset with himself because he was a genius and he should be able to find a different way to shed light on the problem, so to speak. But he was at a loss and that grated on him. He and Sheppard had something of a tally going on saving each other's lives. It was Rodney's turn to step up to the plate, but he was swinging at air. And, god, he was beyond tired if he was thinking in sports euphemisms. Sheppard was rubbing off on him in a bad way.

Another touch to his arm and Rodney frowned at Carson. "What?"

"Get some sleep," Carson said in a kindly tone, but one that was laced in steel. He wasn't making a suggestion so much as giving an order. "You won't be much help to the Colonel if you collapse."

"Fine, whatever," Rodney replied, his tone lacking his usual snap. He was too tired to be angry any more. Maybe it would be best just to get some sleep. Maybe the answer to Sheppard's problem would come to him in a dream or something. It was about the only thing they hadn't tried, and Rodney was getting desperate.

With one final look at Sheppard, and a hopeful glance at his right hand, which was still against the blanket, Rodney heaved a sigh and walked away.

OoO

_The voices in his head were getting louder. Too loud, it made his head hurt. More images flashed in his head, quick-silver flashes that he shouldn't have been able to comprehend, but it was as if the images were burning themselves into his mind's eye. He saw people fighting, even as the voices got louder and more angry. He could feel the anger and the hatred, as if it was a part of him. As if it were burrowing it's way into his soul. He saw pools of red, wet and heavy and suddenly slick against his skin. His hands were drenched in the warm wetness and the horror of it propelled him into motion._

_He didn't hear the outside voices yelling at him._

_He was tangled in something. Something rope like twisting around him, tangling his limbs. His red soaked hands stained all the other colors. White fading into red. The red so bright it hurt his eyes and he shut them hard. It made everything dark, too dark, and he stumbled in the darkness trying to shut off the voices that were screaming at him, inside and out. He had to run away from them. He had to hide. Panic washed over him, then something touched him and he pushed it away and he started running._

Carson was stunned when Sheppard suddenly launched himself out of bed. One minute ago the man had been completely still and unresponsive, and now he was stumbling around, tangled in his IV lines, and Carson ran forward wanting to help him. To calm him. To his surprise, the Colonel's eyes were closed and his breathing was harsh. He moved jerkily, as if his body was resisting against the motion, so Carson reached out to him, touching Sheppard on the shoulder. Only to find himself shoved away, then Sheppard was running towards the door.

Tapping his radio, Carson was about to call for help when help walked in the door in the form of Ronon and Elizabeth. Carson started to shout to Ronon, but the Satedan had already grabbed John, holding him fast even when the Colonel started fighting against him and screaming.

"What's he saying?" Carson asked, as he ran to a side drawer and removed a syringe filled with a sedative. He had learned to keep a few of them at the ready.

Elizabeth didn't answer. She was frozen to the spot, staring at Sheppard and looking horrified as Ronon wrestled him to the floor, pinning him beneath his heavier weight.

Sheppard fought him, still screaming, eyes scrunched closed, head banging against the floor.

Carson ran to them, gripping one bicep to still it as best he could, then plunging the needle into sweat sheened skin. It took a moment for Sheppard's motions to grow sluggish, then still, and Carson felt exhausted by the time Ronon was able to lift Sheppard and put him back to bed.

"What happened?" the Satedan asked, as he laid Sheppard gently down.

"Good question," Carson replied. He paused to toss the empty syringe in the sharps container, then he joined Ronon at Sheppard's side. He studied the blood dripping from the back of the Colonel's left hand and pulled a square of gauze from his lab coat pocket. Tearing open the packet, Carson held it to the wound. "He was just lying there as he had been and then he just jumped out of bed. No warning, no nothing. Then he seemed terrified and I tried to calm him down and that's when he made a run for it. It's a good thing you showed up." Carson looked at Ronon, who nodded.

Elizabeth had slowly made her way over, and she stared at John as she reached them. "He was screaming in Ancient," she whispered.

Carson nodded. "I figured as much, since I didn't understand a bloody word of it. What was he saying?"

"No more death," Elizabeth replied. "And something like, 'you will destroy the future'. 'The last thing he said was 'leave me alone'."

"Sounds bad," Ronon stated.

Truer words were never spoken, Carson thought. "Well, he should be out for a few hours and I'm going to look at his reaction as a good sign. With a bit of luck, he'll wake up and be fine."

Ronon visibly brightened. "He won't lay there and stare at the ceiling anymore?"

"I hope not," Carson said, with all the sincerity he could muster.

But it proved to be a false hope.

OoO

Elizabeth stared at everyone who was gathered in her office. What she had to tell them would not be easy. She had just finished speaking with Jack O'Neill, barely an hour ago, and now it was time to face the truth.

"John isn't getting better," she said to her audience.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Ya think?" he mocked, then he grimaced and fell silent, perhaps regretting his tone.

Elizabeth studied him a moment, then let her gaze roam over Carson, Teyla, and finally Ronon. They all looked anxious, worried and a bit angry. She wondered if the anger was for her. She figured they'd be furious with her once she said her piece. "I spoke to General O'Neill," she began. "He's at Cheyenne Mountain, filling in for General Landry while he pitches the needs of the SGC to the International Committee. I told him everything we know in regards to Colonel Sheppard and his present condition."

"And?" Carson prompted, when she fell suddenly silent.

"And he agrees that John should be sent to Earth." There, Elizabeth had dropped the bomb, now she waited for the fall out.

It didn't take long. Ronon looked furious, Teyla looked shocked, Rodney was on his feet and shouting before Elizabeth could check on Carson.

Moving to confront Elizabeth, Rodney practically got in her face. "You have to give us more time! You can't just ship him away like that! What's wrong with you?"

"What good is more time?" Elizabeth argued, even though she shared Rodney's sentiments. But this wasn't about what they wanted. It was about what was best for John. "We don't know what's wrong with John, and we haven't been able to help him. I think sending him to Cheyenne Mountain is the right thing to do."

"You can't be serious?" Rodney stared at her in disbelief.

"Elizabeth is doing the right thing," Carson interjected, and found himself on the end of Rodney's glare.

McKay moved closer to shake his finger in Carson's face now. "How can you say that? What's the matter with you? Did you even read the Hippocratic oath? Do no harm, Carson! Sending him away is doing harm!"

Carson was on his feet, glaring right back at McKay. "What would you have me do, Rodney?" he snapped. "There's nothing more to do on my end and you haven't come up with anything. Do you think it's helping the Colonel to spend his time in restraints while we all sit around and stare at him? At least at the SGC he wouldn't be tied down."

"No, of course not!" Rodney shot back, not giving any ground. "There he'd just be locked up in a padded room. That's so much better!"

"What do you suggest then, Rodney?" Elizabeth challenged him. She understood his anger, but she had to make him see reason. This wasn't about them, it was about John. "Can you do anything to help John? Because I asked for three days. If we can't help Colonel Sheppard by then, then we have no choice but to send him to Earth. But if you have a way to help him, then please...tell me what it is." She heard a bit of pleading seep into her tone. She wanted Rodney to be able to fix John. She wanted the head of the Military back. More than that, she wanted her friend back.

Rodney stared at Elizabeth for a long moment, then he turned and, shoulders slumped, left the room.

Elizabeth said nothing more as the others followed suit. When she was alone, she closed her eyes against the bitter sting of tears she couldn't allow herself to shed.

OoO

_The voices were quieter now, almost soothing. John could close his eyes now and not be afraid. He knew something was wrong, but in this moment it didn't matter. He wanted to slip away into the shadows that danced in his head, but something kept him tethered in the bright, light, whiteness of the other place. So he rocked against the bindings, whispering softly to the voices, and hoping no one would hear him._

**THE END...of part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 3**

Rodney hesitated at the door to the infirmary, taking a deep breath before actually walking in. Forcing himself to look across the room, he was surprised to see Sheppard, dressed in white scrubs, sitting in the middle of his bed and rocking gently back and forth. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his left arm around his legs and his head leaned forward so that the scientist could barely see his face. The pilot kept running his right hand through his hair, pausing periodically to fist some of the wild strands and pull for several seconds before resuming his almost rhythmic motions.

Rodney startled as Carson walked up to stand beside him. He'd been so focused on watching Sheppard that he hadn't been aware of anyone approaching. "He's not in restraints."

Carson gave a short nod. "No. He seemed calmer this morning, so we took him out to get him changed and get him some fresh bedding. He's been like that ever since. I didn't have the heart to fight him back into the restraints, so I've had someone watching him."

Rodney noticed the male nurse sitting in the chair beside Sheppard's bed. He'd seen him once or twice lately, but didn't know the man's name, which indicated he was probably someone new. Although the man seemed to be working on some charts, his eyes flickered up to Sheppard every few seconds, checking on his charge's condition. Rodney shifted his eyes back to Sheppard.

"Is he talking?" He noticed the Colonel's mouth moving, even though his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Carson sighed. "Aye, he's been mumbling all morning, but nothing we can understand. I figure out a word ever so often and Elizabeth caught another word or two of Ancient, along with some other languages. We can't get enough to make any sense of it though."

Rodney turned to Carson, the flaring hope evident on his face and in his voice. "But that's an improvement, right? I mean he's communicating."

Carson shook his head sadly, wishing he could be more optimistic. "No, Rodney, he's not really communicating. I don't even think he knows we're here. He's just mumbling words and, to be honest, I don't think even he knows what he's saying."

Rodney's face fell with the news. "Well, then, what are you doing to help him? Have you run any more tests? We have to figure out what happened to him so we can fix him. We can't just leave him like this."

Carson rubbed the side of his head with his hand and then let it drop back to his side. "Rodney . . . there are no more tests to run. I've done everything I can. I can't fix this."

Rodney balled his fists in anger, hitting the side of his thighs in frustration. "No, I don't believe that. The Colonel didn't just suddenly lose his mind. Something made this happen and we have to find out what. And sending him back to Earth isn't the answer. They won't fix him there and you know it."

Now Carson was the one getting angry and starting to feel defensive. "No, I don't know anything of the kind. They have better equipment and more trained people to work with the Colonel there. We have such limited resources here and I have no idea what could have caused this." Carson paused and took a deep breath, turning to face Rodney squarely. "Rodney, we have to face the possibility that the Colonel just reached his breaking point. We all know what he's been through the past three years and it's a lot more than anyone should ever be asked to endure."

"Oh, no, no, no, don't even go there. You don't believe that any more than I do. Sheppard is not just having some kind of breakdown. If he was going to go all nutso on us, it wouldn't be like this. Think, Carson, you know I'm right."

Carson looked down at his feet. He knew Rodney was right. He'd never really thought the Colonel was losing his mind, but he also knew that sometimes people were blind to things like that when it was their friend. He didn't want to overlook something just because he didn't want it to be true.

Rodney reached out to put one hand lightly on Carson's shoulder. "They won't help him on Earth because they don't know him. He doesn't mean anything to those people, so they won't care about him like we do. They'll just take the easy way out. Diagnose him with PTSD or something, drug him up, and shut him in a padded cell. That'll be his life. He doesn't deserve that."

Carson forced his eyes up to meet McKay's. "I don't know what else to do, Rodney. I don't have the means to treat him here and I don't know what to do for him. I have to split my time between caring for him and caring for my other patients, while trying to figure out what's wrong with him. This way there'll be two teams working on the problem, us and Earth."

Rodney shook his head slowly. "You don't get it, do you?" Rodney turned to look across the room at the shell of his friend, still rocking and mumbling to himself. "Out of sight, out of mind. You'll work on finding him help for a while, but then he'll fade in our memories and we'll get busy with other projects and . . . pretty soon we won't even think about him any more. It's a lot easier to forget someone needs your help when he's light years away and not here cluttering up your infirmary."

"Rodney, that's not fair," said Carson sharply.

"I know," Rodney said softly. "Nothing about this is fair." Suddenly he turned around to face Carson. "That's why I'll be going back to Earth with him. I'll make sure we keep working on finding a solution to this and that he's not alone. I'll make sure they treat him right. He needs someone to look after him."

"Rodney, don't be ridiculous. You can't go back to Earth with the Colonel. We need you here."

Rodney gave a small smile. "Well, with both of us gone, maybe the hole will be big enough to keep your attention focused on helping him. I'll come back when he does."

Carson frowned at Rodney for a moment before shifting his feet and rubbing his jaw. "Rodney . . . I'm not a hundred percent sure . . . I don't know that the Colonel is still in there to get back."

Rodney's look of resolve faltered for a split second, but was quickly firmed back up. "He's never given up on me and I'm not giving up on him. He taught us not to leave people behind and I think he deserves the same consideration. He's in there somewhere and I want him back. Besides . . . I owe him two losses in chess."

Rodney strode across the infirmary and stepped up to Sheppard's bed, sitting on the edge. "Colonel?"

John never looked up, just continued his rocking motion and gentle murmurings as he clutched at his hair and then rubbed his head.

Rodney put his hands on the sides of John's face and turned his head to face him. "Colonel?" The hazel eyes opened and almost seemed to focus on him for a second as John's voice went silent. He stared slack jawed at Rodney and the scientist half expected him to pop out with some sarcastic remark. But just as quickly, he pulled away and resumed his rocking, his eyes glazing over once again. Rodney sat watching for a moment before rising and turning to see Carson watching.

"He's still in there and I'm going to help him."

Carson watched Rodney stalk past him and out of the infirmary. Guilt weighed heavy on his heart. He hadn't okayed the colonel's transfer back to Earth to get rid of him. He'd actually thought that the best plan to get his friend the help he needed. Now he wondered. Rodney was right about one thing. When people were gone, it was easier to forget they needed your help. It became easier and easier to just assume someone else was taking care of them and you could go on about your business unhindered. Carson ran his hand through his hair as he watched Sheppard's pitiful form rock back and forth on the bed. As he slowly walked back to his office, he admitted that he didn't feel much like a proper friend.

oOo

"You want to what?" asked Elizabeth incredulously.

Rodney crossed his arms as he leaned back in the chair. "I said I want a leave of absence to accompany the Colonel back to Earth. I thought I spoke clearly enough the first time."

Elizabeth shook her head, her expression dazed. "It wasn't so much I didn't hear you as I didn't believe you. What on earth do you want to do that for? You aren't a medical doctor, Rodney."

"Well, of course not. I'm a real scientist, Elizabeth, as you well know. But I'm not abandoning Sheppard like the rest of you seem so anxious to do. He needs one of us with him, to make sure he's okay and to keep looking for the answer to what's happened to him."

Elizabeth pursed her lips for a few seconds before thinning her mouth out into a fine line. "We aren't abandoning John. I would never let that happen." Her voice faltered momentarily as she felt her composure failing. Looking away for a moment, she took a deep breath and turned back to Rodney. "We'll continue to look for an answer while the doctors on Earth try to help him as well. I've talked to Carson about this and we feel this is the best thing. If John is in the infirmary, Carson will spend most of his time making sure John's being properly cared for and that doesn't leave much time to search for answers."

Rodney frowned and stood, beginning to pace around the small office. "He should be here with us, his team, his friends . . . his family. Not with a bunch of strangers. They won't . . . they won't treat him like we will. The answer is here, I know it. We just aren't looking in the right place."

Sighing, Elizabeth shook her head again. "We don't have any idea where to start looking. We've already sent teams back to the last four planets you had missions on, looking for anything that might have caused this. Nothing. It could be something that happened ages ago and is just now surfacing. It could be something that happened in the city itself or on the _Daedalus_."

Rodney suddenly turned and looked down at Elizabeth. "The _Daedalus_. That's when his headaches started. Did anyone check to see if something was wrong with the beaming technology, something that might have caused this?"

Elizabeth nodded and looked down at her desk, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. "Yes, that was the first thing we checked after John collapsed, remember?"

Rodney looked sheepishly at his feet. "Oh . . . yeah . . . I remember. Maybe they missed something."

"Caldwell is going to have everything checked out once they get back to Earth just to make sure. Rodney . . . stay here. You can search the Ancient database for something while Carson looks over John's test results and compares it to the records." Elizabeth stood and walked over to Rodney, placing her hand gently on his arm. "I know you're worried about him. We all are. But I'm not sure this city can lose both of you and still get by."

Rodney stood silently for several minutes, obviously lost in thought. He finally lifted his gaze to look at his friend. "I can't. I can't leave him alone like that. He's lost and he needs someone there who cares about him. Radek can search the database and send me weekly updates when you send in your reports. Carson can send along anything he finds too and I can keep you updated on Sheppard's condition and any changes. Maybe I can be searching through the records at Stargate Command, talk to O'Neill about what happened to him."

Elizabeth pulled back and crossed her arms. "Carson said what happened to O'Neill is different from what's happening to John. The activity patterns are very different, as are the symptoms."

Rodney shook his head. "Yes, yes, I know, they are different. But there are some things they have in common, like the increased brain activity and the sudden ability to speak Ancient. And although the Colonel's problems are more pronounced, they both lost at least some of the ability to control all of their actions and their speech. There are enough similarities that I think it bears looking into." Rodney watched Elizabeth struggle for a moment before continuing. "Let me go with him . . . at least for a while. We can't just pack him up and send him back by himself. Please."

Elizabeth grit her teeth at the all too real prospect of sending her military commander and friend to Earth, probably to end up in a mental facility since they had no proof what was affecting him was anything physical. She thought of the things he had said over the past few years, things that showed he had a low opinion of himself, that he expected to be left behind at the first sign of trouble. She thought of the expectation he still had that if someone was to be sacrificed, it should be him. Rodney was right. He deserved more that to be shipped off for strangers to take care of.

"All right, your request is approved. You have a leave of absence for whatever period of time you need. Radek will be appointed temporary head of the Science Department until you return."

Relief flooded Rodney's face as he nodded. "Thank you." Shifting his weight uncomfortably, he began backing toward the door. "I . . . have some things to get set up before I leave, arrangements to make and all that."

Elizabeth nodded, her face strained. "Tell me you'll find an answer to this," she said quietly.

Rodney frowned and took a deep breath before blowing it out slowly. "I promise I won't quit looking until I do." Having reached the door, he turned and walked quickly away, leaving Elizabeth standing in her office and realizing how alone she felt.

oOo

Rodney stood in the door of the infirmary. He'd looked all over Atlantis for Ronon and Teyla, only to end up back in the infirmary and find them here. It was getting late and Sheppard's disposition had obviously changed in the hours since his morning visit. He was back in restraints, twisting around on the bed, pulling with all his might, his breathing labored from his efforts to pull loose. Rodney watched as Ronon paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, looking angry enough to punch someone out. Teyla stood beside the bed, trying to sooth the Colonel with gentle words and a damp cloth she blotted to his face. Sheppard suddenly arched his back off the bed and let out a bloodcurdling scream that prompted Carson and several nurses to come streaking to his bedside.

Rodney stepped back out in the hall for a few minutes, his back to the wall as he tried to slow his breathing and convince himself that he could help his friend. He had to believe it to be able to do what he needed to do. Reminding himself of all the times Sheppard had willingly tried to sacrifice himself to save others, including him on several occasions, Rodney took a deep breath and stepped back into the infirmary. He walked toward the bed where Carson and Teyla were trying to calm a still writhing Sheppard. He noticed the man's face was contorted as if in pain.

"I see he's past the calm stage," Rodney said, not sure of what else to say.

"Aye, I'm afraid we had to put him back in restraints a few hours ago," said Carson. He looked at Rodney, trying to read his expression. "Did you talk to Elizabeth?"

Rodney nodded. "Yes, she approved my request."

Teyla cocked her head to one side. "What request?"

Rodney looked at her and then to Ronon. "We need to talk."

Carson checked the restraints and then nodded to Rodney. "I'll leave you to have your talk. Call me if you need me, and . . . I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I, Carson." Rodney grabbed a chair and motioned for Teyla and Ronon to sit as well. He began telling them his plan to the back drop of Sheppard tossing and moaning on the bed next to them. When he was finished, he waited on them to tell him what a bad idea it was.

Teyla looked up at John a minute and then back at Rodney. "He should not have to make that journey alone. I am glad he will have a friend such as you to watch after him. We will miss you both while you are gone."

"You'll both be back, though, right?" asked Ronon. Rodney thought he saw a flicker of fear in the big man's eyes and realized that was a first.

"Oh, yeah, sure, as soon as I figure out what happened and get him fixed. We'll be back." Rodney wasn't sure who he was trying to convince. "I need you guys to help though. I need you to keep going over our last missions, see if you can think of anything we missed. If needed, visit the planets again and talk to the people. See if you can find any time where we don't know where Sheppard was or that he was alone. Since we don't know what we're looking for, we're looking for anything the slightest bit questionable or suspicious."

Ronon and Teyla both nodded. "We will go over everything, no matter how small," assured Teyla. "We are his team and it is our responsibility to make sure John is well again."

Rodney smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "I knew you guys would understand. We stick together, no matter what."

They sat quietly for a few moments, watching Sheppard struggle against the bonds. Ronon finally turned to look at Rodney. "What if you can't figure out how to help him?"

Rodney never took his eyes from his friend. "Well . . . that's not an option. It's not if we help him, it's when."

oOo

Pain and confusion. That was his world. Sometimes his mind was flooded with faces and buildings and landscapes, some familiar and others new. Sometimes it was words in a language he knew but he didn't know, plans and schematics for things both familiar and strange. Flashes of sights and sounds, in his head and outside of him, twisting and combining until he didn't know which was up. He was afraid and wanted to run and then he was angry and wanted to fight. There were brief periods of peace, times of sadness.

The sensory overload kept him from being able to focus on any one thing, to figure out where he was or who he was. A fleeting glimpse of a familiar face or voice had him fighting to reach out and embrace the reality, to grasp it for just a moment. He yearned for a moment of normalcy, even though he no longer knew what that meant. And the fight brought the pain, pounding and relentless, coming from everywhere and yet from nowhere. He was lost and he no longer even grasped that fact. There was nothing with meaning any more, only images and sounds and light and emotion and pain, none of it making any sense.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 4**

_The outside voices were back again. They flowed around him now, in never-ending waves that made him ache and want to curl up into a ball. There were touches and he tried to move with them, tried to flinch away. Finally they left him alone and he opened his eyes to bright whiteness. He knew this place and yet it wasn't wholly familiar. But it called to him, pushing him upright until he could touch the sleek brightness. It felt warm to his touch and as he rubbed his hand across the surface, she hummed for him. He smiled and let himself fall against her, let her soothe him as he rocked. She made the other voices slip away._

_But not for very long.__ The outside voices came back. Too loud, and surrounding him and touching him and he felt the hands that pulled on him. He tried to push them away when they latched on to him. He didn't want to leave the warmth. He wished he could scream at them to leave him alone. Strong hands touched him, familiar hands and a familiar voice, deep and rumbling against his back. He wanted to open his eyes wide and stare at the face that he knew loomed above him. He remembered faces, but they scared him now and he didn't like being scared. It was unfamiliar in a way he didn't understand._

_The rumbling got louder and the touch became painful. He couldn't pull away down and something pinched his skin and liquid warmth rushed through his body, leeching away the cold. The warmth brought darkness and with the darkness a blessed silence._

_He let himself slip away._

OoO

Rodney stood beside the gurney that Sheppard was strapped to. Carson had been forced to sedate him, especially after finding the Colonel stuffed into the corner of the infirmary, hands plastered against the walls, rocking and mumbling to himself. Ronon had managed to pin Sheppard, but not without effort and he got a few bruises along the way. Which, oddly, had made him smile as he had laid Sheppard out on the gurney.

They would be walking through the gate in a few minutes and Rodney felt a moment of panic. This was it. The moment of truth for them all. Sheppard would be going through the gate, but there was no guarantee that he would ever come back through. He might never step foot back on Atlantis again. A part of Rodney wondered if he would ever be back either and, surprisingly, he wasn't as upset about that thought as he might have been. All he could think about was Sheppard. He had to find a way to make his friend better. To fix him.

"Are you ready, Rodney?" It was Elizabeth asking, as she made her way over to them.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Rodney replied. He watched her move to Sheppard's side and take one limp hand between both her own. Rodney knew that Elizabeth felt a kinship with the Colonel. That she truly believed they took care of Atlantis and her people together. That she couldn't do it without Sheppard. Rodney pretty much believed the same thing. Atlantis needed Sheppard. Which meant Rodney had to find a way to make him well again and bring him home. Because where they were going now was back to Earth. Not back home.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, released John's hand, then met Rodney's blue gaze dead on. "I know you'll find a way to help John," she said firmly. "Because if anyone can, it's you, Rodney. Just make sure you take care of yourself as well. I expect you both to come back soon." With that she stepped into him and gave him a hug.

Rodney didn't know what to do. For a moment he froze, then he lifted his arms and awkwardly hugged her back. He was relieved when she released him, only to find himself engulfed in one of Ronon's bear hugs. "Breathing!" he hissed, when he was pretty sure a rib was going to crack.

"Bring Sheppard back soon," Ronon said, gruffly, slapping Rodney on the back and nearly knocking him over. Then he moved to Sheppard's side and clapped him on the shoulder before fading back.

"We'll be back as soon as we can," Rodney promised, and he was being as sincere as he had ever been. And his words were also a promise to Sheppard, even though the Colonel couldn't hear him right now.

Teyla glided forward next, a warm smile on her face even as worry glimmered in her dark eyes. She gripped Rodney by the shoulders, pulling him into her until their foreheads touched. "Safe journey to you both," she said softly. "We will do all that we can on this end."

Rodney pulled back and nodded. "Yeah, I know you will. We'll figure this out." He was starting to ramble so he clamped his mouth shut.

"Keep in touch, Rodney," Carson stated, his brogue heavy as his emotions, which were on display in the heavy lines of concern etched into his face. "Let me know any and all changes with the Colonel, and I'll keep you updated from this end."

"Yes, yes, of course," Rodney replied, then he found himself caught in another bear hug. He sighed and hugged back, staggering a bit when Carson released him and pretending not to hear when the Scotsman sniffled loudly. He was just glad the goodbyes were now over. Glancing at Elizabeth, Rodney asked, "Can we go now?" It came out rather more as a pleading whine than as a question, but whatever got results.

Elizabeth managed a shaky smile and nodded. "Of course." She looked at everyone gathered. "Anyone have anything they want to say?"

Teyla didn't speak, but she moved to Sheppard's side and leaned over him to press their foreheads together for a brief moment. She seemed to be whispering something to him, but Rodney couldn't hear what she said.

Then Carson cleared his throat and moved to Sheppard's other side. When Teyla stepped back, Carson fussed with the Colonel's blankets, did a pulse check, then patted his shoulder before nodding to Elizabeth that he was done.

Nodding back, Elizabeth turned to Chuck. "Dial it up!" she ordered.

Rodney felt strangely calm as he watched the gate light up and the puddle form. Then he moved behind the gurney and pushed it towards the circle. He didn't look back, but he heard Elizabeth call after him,

"Safe journey to you both!"

With a mental thank you Rodney stepped across, with Sheppard, into what felt like a whole new world.

Waiting for him was on the other side was General O'Neill, a man in a white lab coat and what looked like three medical personnel.

O'Neill stepped forward as the gate shut down. "Hey there, McKay," he offered in greeting, holding out his hand.

"General," Rodney replied, shaking O'Neill's hand briefly. He felt panic set in with the man in the white coat and his lackeys suddenly swarmed around the gurney. "Who are you?" he demanded, stepping over in a guarding posture as the man in the white lab coat reached for Sheppard.

"This is Dr. Purdie," O'Neill supplied, moving forward as well. "He's going to take good care of Colonel Sheppard, McKay. You can trust him."

Rodney snorted at that ridiculous statement. He didn't trust anyone but himself to help Sheppard. "Do you have anything useful to tell me?" he demanded, looking at Purdie as he spoke.

The man looked surprised, but he rose to the challenge, eyebrows sweeping up into his salt and pepper bangs. He needed a haircut and a diet. Or maybe it was just the fact that he loomed over Rodney. He wasn't fat exactly, but he was very tall and very thick and the seams in his labcoat looked like they were ready to bust.

"I've done a lot of research, Dr. McKay," he replied. "After what happened to General O'Neill, I devoted my time to studying Asgard technology. And I'm in contact with them and they're going to be helping me with Colonel Sheppard's case."

"Us," Rodney interjected sharply. "I'm a part of this team. The most important part," he stated firmly. "You don't do anything to Sheppard without clearing it with me first. Understand?"

Purdie looked angry for a moment, then amused. "You're not a medical doctor," he drawled. "And I would be wasting Colonel Sheppard's time, as well as my own, if I attempted to explain to you the various procedures I intend to try on him."

Rodney didn't like the sound of that and he glared at Purdie. "He's not some lab rat for you to experiment on!" he snapped. "He's my friend and I will be watching you like a hawk. You won't do anything to him without my okay!"

Before Purdie could respond, O'Neill was moving between them. "You will be completely in the loop, McKay," he smoothly promised. "But right now why don't you let Dr. Purdie and his team take Sheppard to his room and run some initial tests. Make sure that he's okay and settled in. Then you can visit him and see for yourself that he's all right."

"But he's not all right!" Rodney hissed, feeling anger rising hot inside him. "That's the whole point of us being here! Sheppard isn't all right!"

"I know." O'Neill's voice was soft, but the tone firm as he gripped Rodney by the arm and steered him off the ramp. He kept a tight hold of him as Purdie's team pushed Sheppard's gurney down and out the side door. "We're all here to help Sheppard," O'Neill continued. "We all want what's best for him."

Rodney wanted to believe that, but he had an itchy feeling that he couldn't scratch. He knew O'Neill was a good guy, but his instincts were screaming at him not to trust Purdie. He had no reason not to trust the guy, other than a gut reaction though, so he kept his concerns to himself for the moment. But he would watch Purdie like a hawk. "I need to stow my gear," Rodney said, and he was surprised to realize he sounded just like Sheppard. The Colonel really was rubbing off on him and it was kinda freaky.

O'Neill grinned at him. "Come this way. I figure you want to be close to Sheppard, so I've set you up in quarters right down the hall from him. He will be in a room where the door only opens from the outside unless you have a pass key, and it's clear of anything that could be harmful to him or anyone else, but we want him to be as comfortable as possible."

"Right," Rodney replied, feeling himself tense up. He knew what O'Neill was trying to say and do, but it didn't change the truth. They were going to lock Sheppard up in a gilded padded cell. But it was still padded and still a cell. "When can I see Sheppard? Because I'd really like to be with him when he's being tested. If he suddenly comes out of his catatonia I think it would be best for him to have a familiar face around."

"Can't deny that logic," O'Neill agreed. "Come dump your stuff and I'll take you to Sheppard's room." He led Rodney out the door, down three separate hallways then gestured to a blue door. "You're here," he said, as he opened the door.

Rodney stepped in, glanced at the plain decor and the bed in the corner, dumped his bag then stepped out. "Where's Sheppard?" He was led down the same hall way, about twenty yards. Last room just around a slight bend. A room with an observation window like in a Cop show. So Sheppard would be on display after all. Rodney bit back the rant that was building in his throat and moved to the window. He saw Sheppard lying in what looked like a normal bed, but even from his observation point he could see the straps attached to the sides. Padded restraints, by the looks of it, but restraints all the same. Rodney closed his eyes a moment, until he heard a door open. He looked to see Purdie and his lackeys filing out of the room.

Purdie moved to O'Neill. "I took some blood and did a vitals check and now I'll run some tests of my own. I think it's best to let Colonel Sheppard get some rest tonight and I'll try talking to him in the morning. That way he has a bit of time to acclimate to his new surroundings."

"Did you get Carson's notes about feeding him?" Rodney asked, suddenly remembering himself. Sheppard, to this point, had only taken soup from Teyla. He had discussed that fact with Carson who told Rodney to make the attempt to feed him once they got here. He was nervous about trying, but he would do it if it kept Sheppard off a feeding tube.

"I read his notes and you can try feeding him after my staff makes the first attempt," Purdie allowed. Then he nodded at O'Neill before striding off.

Rodney glared after him. "I don't like him," he ranted.

O'Neill shrugged. "Don't think that much of him myself," he allowed. "But he's good at what he does and he wouldn't be here if I didn't think he could help Sheppard."

"I guess." Rodney wasn't feeling generous so that's as close to trusting O'Neill's judgment as he was going to get at the moment. "I want to sit with Sheppard for a while." It was a statement of what he was going to do more than a asking for permission to do so.

"Go ahead." O'Neill reached in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a red credit card, holding it out for Rodney to take. "You'll need this to get out if someone isn't standing outside the door. Don't lose it."

Rodney nodded as he took the card and opened the door, stepping inside the white room. And it was white from top to bottom, corner to corner. White walls and ceiling and bedding. The only color was the steel gray bedframe and the side table, which Rodney tested and discovered was bolted to the floor.

Moving to the bed, he reached out, wanting to connect with Sheppard if only by touch.

But Sheppard pulled away from him, slipping off the bed and making Rodney jump. He thought the Colonel was still out from the sedative. Carson had said he'd be out for a couple of hours after they arrived. But he shook away that thought as he watched Sheppard move to the nearest wall and run his hand over it. He stumbled as he moved the length of the room to the corner, then he was pushing himself into it, legs drawn up against his chest, arms wrapped around them. In his white scrubs he blended into the wall, the only color contrast being his dark hair. Even his skin seemed translucent and white in this room.

Rodney moved to his side, watching Sheppard rocking. As he reached him he could hear him mumbling and he got close so he could hear what he was saying. To Rodney's surprise it was two simple words in Ancient.

Too bright.

He wondered what it meant, but as he sat down with his back against the wall and mirrored Sheppard's position, he thought he understood. The lighting was low but with all the unblemished white, it seemed painfully bright in the room. After fifteen minutes of listening to Sheppard mumble the same thing over and over, Rodney went to the door. When O'Neill opened it he stepped out. "I have to get something from my room," he said, heading down the hallway.

A moment later Rodney was back and stepping into the room with a woven blanket made with blue and green strips of cloth. Teyla had woven it together for Sheppard, and she'd asked Rodney to bring it with them for him. He figured the color would make it less bright because the blues and greens were warm and dark and earthy.

Shaking it out, Rodney spread it over Sheppard's hunched shoulders, holding his breath as he waited for a reaction. He was almost relieved when all Sheppard did was continue rocking. But after a few minutes Rodney realized that the mumbling stopped and Rodney wondered if that meant something and if he should tell Purdie. But he decided to keep that tidbit of information to himself for now. So he stayed for a bit longer until O'Neill opened the door and called him out.

"What?" Rodney asked, hoping that nothing had gone wrong at Atlantis or something.

But O'Neill just drew him down the hallway. "How would you like to meet Kel?" he asked.

"Kel?" Rodney echoed, feeling thoroughly confused. And he hated that feeling.

"One of the big wigs in the Asgard hierarchy, so to speak," "O'Neill explained.

Rodney realized what he was saying and how it could be important. "He's here?" he asked.

O'Neill nodded. "Just arrived. He's interested in Sheppard."

"I'll bet," Rodney muttered, but he forced a grim smile. "Let's go," he said. But he took a look back through the glass and it saddened him that Sheppard just sat there rocking. So if Kel could help, then Rodney would get on bended knee to ask him too. If that's what it took to bring Sheppard back.

**THE END...of part 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: ** First, thanks to all of you reading and reviewing. Second, sorry for the delay – I seem to have temporarily lost my mind (at least I hope it's temporary). I could have sworn I posted this chapter two days ago.

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 5**

Rodney followed O'Neill through a maze of hallways to a conference room. He spotted the Asgard as soon as they entered the room, standing beside Purdie and another doctor as they talked.

O'Neill gestured to the trio beside the table. "Dr. McKay, you've met Dr. Purdie. This is Dr. Hinton, a neurologist that Dr. Purdie wanted to consult with, and Kel. He's an Asgard." O'Neill frowned and pursed his lips. "Uh, never mind, you knew that. Anyway, Kel here has done some research into the Ancient repositories and he thought he might be of some help with Sheppard."

Rodney nodded to the small grey alien, ignoring the human doctor next to him. "I'm anxious to see if you think there is a connection between what happened to Sheppard and what happened to General O'Neill. We haven't been able to find anything the Colonel came in contact with that could have caused a reaction like this. I think we need someone fresh to look at everything and generate some possibilities."

Kel gave a brief nod. "I will be happy to help Colonel Sheppard in any way that I can. I will need to see his test results of course and perhaps examine him myself. I have also brought a few devices that may help determine a course of action for the Colonel."

Rodney nodded. "Yes, of course. And I can answer any questions you may have about the last few days leading up to the Colonel's collapse."

"Yes, that would be helpful. For the moment, I need to speak with Dr. Purdie about his findings so far."

Rodney looked up at Purdie in dismay. "Oh, yes, Dr. Purdie. Exactly what have you found so far?"

Purdie crossed his arms and stared smugly at McKay. "I only did a few preliminary blood tests and a check of the Colonel's vitals. We were mostly interested in getting him settled as much as possible and observing his behavior. It'll take several days to finish all the tests we need."

Fear gripped Rodney's stomach, making a sour knot. Not fear for himself, but fear for Sheppard. "Carson already ran a whole slew of tests, just look at his results. That's why we brought them. Sheppard doesn't respond well to that kind of thing right now. You'll just scare him, freak him out."

Purdie smiled, revealing a mouth full of peg like, too-perfect teeth. "Well, that's why you're here, Dr. McKay, right? To help keep him calm, to help us handle him?"

Rodney snorted and narrowed his eyes at the man, the distrust in his motives and methods growing by the minute. "The reason I came was to help the Colonel. To make sure he's being treated well and taken care of, to make sure no one is hurting him, and to find out what happened so we can fix him. I'm not here for you, I'm here for him."

Purdie continued to smile. "Of course, Dr. McKay. But if you help us, you indirectly help him. After all, if you cannot help calm him, we'll have to put him in restraints or perhaps keep him drugged. Now, we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Rodney clinched his hands into fists beside his leg, feeling the heat of anger creep up his neck. Just before he could respond to Purdie's patronizing tone, O'Neill stepped between him and the doctor.

"Okay, Dr. McKay, I think you and I should go now. I think I hear the mess hall calling our name." O'Neill took Rodney by the arm and steered him toward the door. "You know, the food has gotten a lot better since you were here last."

As they stepped out into the hall and put distance between them and Purdie, Rodney felt the tension slowly begin to dissipate. As he walked with the general, O'Neill lessened his grip on Rodney's arm. "The food is really better now?" asked the scientist.

They walked a few steps in silence before O'Neill shrugged his shoulders. "No, not really. It just seemed like the thing to say at the moment. I'm trying to keep you out of trouble here."

Rodney sighed. "I should have known. Well, I appreciate the thought . . . I guess."

"Still hungry? Because I am."

Rodney shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. "Yeah, Sheppard says I'm always hungry."

"If there's a way to fix him, we'll find it," O'Neill said quietly. "We've got the best."

Rodney chuckled, low and humorless. "I hate to be disagreeable, but we had the best in Atlantis. And now we're here."

They paused at the elevator and O'Neill hit the proper button. "That's not the way I remember it." When Rodney looked at him, he waved one hand through the air. "I mean that you don't like to be disagreeable, not the part about Atlantis. Although I might want to argue that point too. At least where Carter is concerned."

Rodney's eyes widened. "Is she here . . . Carter?"

O'Neill smiled. "Ha, I knew there had to be something about the SGC that you approved of. Actually, Carter isn't here right now. SG-1 is off on a mission helping the Jaffa. Why, do you think she could help with this?"

Rodney ran one hand through his hair as they entered the now open elevator. "I don't know, but at this point, I'll take any help we can get." He watched the elevator doors close.

oOo

Rodney's first night at the Cheyenne Mountain complex was a long, miserable one. He tossed and turned and paced until he was a nervous wreck. At 2am, he finally slipped out of his room and down the hall to Sheppard's room, peering through the observation window. His heart dropped when his eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out the colonel crouched in the far corner of the room, clutching the blanket Rodney had given him earlier. He had taken up his usual position, knees drawn up to his chest and one hand on his head, periodically grabbing a mass of hair to tug on. Even from this distance, he could see the gentle rocking motion and he wondered if he'd resumed the incoherent mumbling. Rodney stood and watched his friend for over an hour, feeling more and more depressed the longer he watched. Tired and aching from standing so long, he finally made his way back to his room and dropped on the bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

He woke a few hours later, still tired, but also wired about what the day would bring. After dressing, he made his way to the mess hall for some coffee and a pastry that he barely tasted before heading for Sheppard's room. Rodney could feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter and tighter as he got closer. It was all he could do to keep from turning and running the other way. At least in Atlantis he had been surrounded by other people who were just as traumatized by seeing the colonel either out of his mind or completely unresponsive. Here, no one but him really cared.

McKay's heart dropped when he stepped up to the window, followed immediately by a flush of anger. Sheppard was propped up in bed with several pillows, but his ankles and wrists were held tightly in restraints. Purdie stood to one side watching while his two helpers tried to feed Sheppard. Some sort of mushy cooked cereal was all over the colonel's face and scrub top and even smeared in his hair. He was grunting and yanking violently on the restraints as one aid tried to hold his head still while the other cursed as he tried to get cereal in Sheppard's mouth.

Rodney paused for a split second, just in time to see Sheppard break the man's hold and jerk away from the two aides, causing the one holding the bowl to spill most of what was left down the front of his shirt before dumping the rest in Sheppard's lap. His face turned red as he cursed loudly and stuck Sheppard on the side of the head, making his neck snap back with the force of the blow.

Rodney threw the door open with a crash. "What the hell are you doing to him? This is how you treat your patients? You hit them when they don't cooperate? Out! All of you out! You are never to touch him again, is that clear?"

Dr. Purdie suddenly straightened, trying to look shocked at the whole affair. "Oh, Dr. McKay, I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast that I didn't have time –"

"No! You don't talk!" Rodney stalked over to the man who had hit Sheppard. "You, get out of here. You're lucky we aren't on Atlantis or I'd have Ronon drop you off the nearest pier. Get out of here and don't come back. You're finished here." Pushing the man out of his way, Rodney began taking the restraints off Sheppard, who was lying stunned, his eyes darting back and forth under narrow slits as he panted shallowly.

"I want a towel and some clean scrubs and some water for him to drink. And then I want a doctor . . . a different doctor, to check him for head and neck injuries. And I'll need to talk to General O'Neill. I think maybe we should just go back to Atlantis. At least there I know Carson would never hit him or let anyone else hit him."

Purdie had come up behind Rodney after motioning for his two aides to leave. "Look, Dr. McKay, there's no need to overreact. It was all a mistake and I'm sure it will not happen again."

Rodney whirled around to face the doctor. "You better believe it won't happen again. Let me set you straight on something. Colonel Sheppard is my friend. And he has many friends in Atlantis, people who care for him and depend on him. We're a strange group. A lot of us have been together for over two years in a distant galaxy, pretty much fending for ourselves most of that time. We've developed a special relationship and we watch each other's back, even from long distances. You don't want to mess with him and you don't want to mess with me. It will come back to haunt you when you least expect it."

Purdie straightened and dropped all pretense of being nice. "Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just telling you that I'm watching and you will not screw my friend. And there will be consequences if you try. So as long as you're working to help Sheppard and not hurt him in any way, fashion, or form, you're perfectly safe." Rodney continued to stare at Purdie, his gaze unwavering. "Now, I still need some towels and clean clothes for Sheppard. After he's changed and calmed down a little, maybe I'll try to feed him. At least I can do it without hitting him." Rodney turned around and went back to caring for Sheppard. He gently rubbed his hand up and down Sheppard's arm, whispering softly that it would be all right and he wouldn't let anything else happen to him.

oOo

It took Rodney two hours to get Sheppard cleaned up and changed. He refused to rush, taking his time and trying not to make sudden movements that would scare Sheppard. The colonel pulled away from him at each touch, but Rodney patiently waited until Sheppard would let him guide his movements. By the time he was finished, he could see the bruise coloring the side of the colonel's face.

Sheppard eventually ended up back in the corner. He'd crawled and scooted away from McKay until he was once again wedged in the far corner of the room. He was mumbling again, but he had finally quit pulling away from every touch. Exhausted, Rodney just sat in the floor watching for several minutes.

Suddenly Sheppard stilled, only to turn and put his hands on the walls, similar to the way he'd done in the Atlantis infirmary just before being brought to Earth. The pilot rubbed the wall a few times and grunted, turning back to crouch in the corner again. He resumed his typical rocking motion, but seemed to be repeating the same word over and over. Rodney leaned in and listened.

"Tacitus. Tacitus." John continued to repeat the word over and over, running one hand up in his hair as he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his voice to whisper. Rodney pushed the colorful blanket up next to Sheppard's leg in case he decided he wanted it.

"McKay." Rodney jumped at the sound of his name and turned to see O'Neill standing in the doorway with Dr. Lam. Rodney nodded and got up, throwing the dirty scrubs on the bed with the towels as he walked out of the room.

"What's he saying?" asked Lam. "Can you tell?"

Rodney nodded. "It's Ancient. Right now he just keeps repeating the word for quiet. I think he misses Atlantis." O'Neill didn't look surprised, but Lam was obviously confused. "He can feel Atlantis when we're there, they kind of talk . . . or something. It's the gene."

Lam nodded like she understood, even though her expression indicated she really didn't. Rodney was just glad he didn't have to try and explain further, because he'd never completely understood himself.

"Has he shown any signs of nausea or dizziness?" she asked.

Rodney shook his head. "No, at least I don't think so. He's a little more agitated and afraid than he was, but nothing other than that."

Lam nodded. "When I examined him, I didn't see any sign of severe head or neck trauma. I wouldn't mind getting an x-ray, but it would probably upset the Colonel and I don't really think it's necessary. From what you said he never lost consciousness. I think we'll just keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours and I'd like to check in on him several times during that period."

Rodney nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you. I don't want that quack Purdie or his goons anywhere near him and I think I want charges filed against the one that hit him. Sheppard is sick. I seriously doubt he had any idea of what he was doing. Hitting him like that, actually, everything I saw them do was inexcusable. No one should be treated like that, no one. We're supposed to be here to get him help and all I've seen in the last day is abuse. I think we'd be better off going back to Atlantis."

O'Neill shook his head. "Look, I know you're upset and you have every right to be, but Sheppard isn't going back to Atlantis. Purdie's two aides have both been fired and he swears he didn't realize it was getting out of hand until it was already too late. I think we should give him another chance. He comes highly recommended. You, of course, are welcome to return to Atlantis any time you want, but I assumed you wanted to stay here for Sheppard."

Rodney frowned and snorted. "Like I'm leaving him here by himself to be beaten and battered by your Neanderthal medical personnel because he won't eat his cereal like a good colonel. No, I've seen your first class treatment of people who aren't SGC and I'll be staying as long as he does. I'm telling you on the record that there is something wrong with that Dr. Purdie and I reserve the right to say I told you so when he shows his true colors for all to see. In the mean time, if you're letting that clown back in with Sheppard, I want to be notified first so I can be in there and make sure the Colonel doesn't accidentally _slip_ and hurt himself."

O'Neill sighed and rubbed the side of his head as if he had a massive headache. "All right, McKay, you'll be notified so you can keep an eye on things. I told Purdie to leave the Colonel alone the rest of the day to give him a chance to recover."

"Did you get him to eat anything yet?" asked Lam.

"No, I just got him cleaned up. I thought I'd wait a while and then try some soup. That's what Teyla had the most luck feeding him." Rodney looked at the floor, suddenly missing Teyla and Ronon terribly. It had been a long time since he'd been close enough to anyone to miss them and the feelings caught him off guard.

O'Neill grasped his shoulder firmly, drawing his eyes back up to meet those of the general. "Look, McKay, we've never been . . . close. Heck, I've never even liked you. But I understand what it's like to worry about a teammate, to wonder if there's any way to help them, to get them back. We'll do everything we can to help Sheppard, I promise you that. He's a good man."

McKay nodded, finding himself unable to respond. Yet another relatively new experience for the physicist.

"Besides," O'Neill said wryly. " Elizabeth let me know in no uncertain terms that she needed her second in command back ASAP. I'm not sure, but sometimes I think I should be afraid of her."

Rodney smiled a little and swallowed hard. "Yes, be afraid. Be very afraid."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 6**

Elizabeth studied the forlorn group that surrounded her desk. It had been four days since Rodney and John had gone back to Earth. Four long, agonizing days. Everyone was feeling their loss and it didn't help that everyone also felt frustrated. They had yet to find anything that might help Sheppard get better. Ronon had gotten frustrated to the point of breaking the heavy bag in the gym when he punched it too hard.

The other thing upsetting them was the call they had received from Rodney, informing them about what had happened to Sheppard. Hearing how he had been forcibly restrained in an attempt to feed him, then hit, made Elizabeth's blood boil. Looking at the others, she could see how the news had affected them as well.

Ronon was pacing, his big hands clenching in and out of fists. She knew he wanted to hit something. She rather wished he could hit the man who'd hit John.

Teyla had her head bent and she almost eerily still. But Elizabeth could see the tension in her form. She was angry and trying to control it.

Carson wasn't doing so well in the controlling department. He had jumped to his feet and he was cursing in Gaelic. Quietly cursing, but she felt a wave of sympathy at his tirade against the medical ethics of some people. A nameless people, but one she felt a sudden and vast hatred for. It was taking all of her will power not to go through the gate herself to make sure John was all right.

It also wasn't helping that Rodney had nothing positive to report about John and his condition, although she could tell he had tried to be upbeat about things. She felt a surge of affection for McKay. He was trying his best to keep their spirits uplifted, even though she knew he was as scared and worried and frustrated as they were. She just wished that there was something more she could do. Although the call to O'Neill and her verbal lashing for what had happened to John had made Elizabeth feel better for about ten minutes.

For now she waited for the others to calm themselves. It took long enough that Elizabeth was tempted to contact Kate to come sort them all out, but finally they were all settled and Elizabeth studied them all. "I know this is hard on you," she began. "It's hard on me too. On us and everyone in Atlantis. We need John and Rodney, and they probably need us. But we have to accept that all we can really do right now is wait. Rodney will find a way to help Sheppard. I'm sure of it."

"We can keep looking," Ronon interjected. When Elizabeth looked at him he glared back. "I'm not good at waiting and waiting doesn't help Sheppard," he stated.

"Of course we'll keep looking," Elizabeth replied. She wasn't all that great at waiting herself, she just knew how to fake it. But at the same time she knew the reality was that Rodney had the best shot at helping John. But that didn't mean they had to just sit around. "Keep looking and anything you find or think of that might help the Colonel, I'll make sure I convey it to Rodney."

There was a round of nodding, then everyone made their way to the door.

Carson and Ronon went through, but Teyla held back and looked at Elizabeth. "How are you doing?" she asked, the question and the concern in her dark eyes, both glaringly sincere.

"I've been better," Elizabeth confessed, letting herself fall back into her chair. Letting herself feel defeated, if only for this moment. Because she knew Teyla would understand and that she wouldn't judge her for being human.

"We will get through this, Elizabeth," Teyla said softly. "All of us."

Elizabeth managed a smile at that, because she knew Teyla believed it and she wanted to believe it too. Even though the odds weren't in their favor this time. Still, when were they ever. Besides which, John Sheppard seemed to live to buck the odds. She had to cling to the belief that he would do so again. With Rodney by his side, it would happen. It had to happen. "We will get through this and John and Rodney will come home," she confirmed.

Teyla smiled back at her. "They will come home," she whispered, then she was gone.

The smile faded from Elizabeth's face and she closed her eyes against the sting of hot tears.

OoO

Rodney sighed as he tried to feed Sheppard another spoonful of soup. So far he had only managed to get about half a mug into the man, and that after an hour of trying. Rodney tried to look on the bright side. It was the most he had gotten into Sheppard in one sitting in the past four days, so he was going to look at it as progress. Sadly, it was the only progress made in regards to the Colonel. Kel hadn't come up with anything to help Sheppard yet. Neither had Purdie. Although Rodney hadn't expected anything from the doctor. Despite O'Neill's reassurances, daily, that Purdie was an expert in his field and their best bet for helping Sheppard, Rodney didn't believe the man gave a damn about curing the Colonel. His only investment in Sheppard seemed to be as a science project. He did relentless testing but little else. His so called _talks_ with the Colonel consisted of about five words said and Sheppard doubtfully even aware of the man's presence. Although he did seem to go eerily still whenever Purdie was in the room. Still and tense enough that Rodney could almost feel how taut the Colonel's body was. He liked to believe that Sheppard knew Purdie was a jerk, just on instinct.

Which meant Sheppard was definitely still in there. Somewhere.

Without warning, Sheppard got up from the corner, untucking himself from the ball he had curled up into. He straightened and pressed his palms to the wall, muttering as he moved to the other corner, hands never leaving the painted surface. He paced that way, from corner to corner, for about fifteen minutes, then he tucked himself back into the corner again. It was something he did several times a day.

Rodney believed Sheppard was trying to connect with Atlantis, and it was painful to watch him. It was almost like a physical ache to see how lost and confused the Colonel was. Just a curled up ball of white, rocking in the corner. Rocking and muttering too low for Rodney to understand what he was saying. Every now and then he would grab his hair and tug repeatedly and once, yesterday, he had started hitting himself in the head until Rodney had grabbed his wrists, making Sheppard stop just as Purdie's goons ran into the room. Rodney hadn't let them anywhere near the Colonel. Nor would he. After that last ass had hit Sheppard, Rodney didn't trust a single one of them.

Standing up himself, Rodney set the mug on the bedside table, to take out with him later. He noticed that the blue blanket was lying in the middle of the floor and he bent, cursing his aching back, to pick it up. Only to find it snatched away by Sheppard. To Rodney's surprise, the Colonel then started walking about in circles, one corner of the blanket clutched in the tightly clenched fingers of one hand.

It was new behavior and it got Rodney's attention. He wanted to tell Kel about it. The Asgard hadn't made any more progress than Purdie at this point, but Rodney trusted him more. But even as he headed for the door, Sheppard went back into his corner, hands pressing against the wall, his head banging back against it. But a moment later he was up and pacing again, his agitation almost viable.

The door suddenly opened and Rodney turned to see O'Neill stepping inside. He went to the General, meaning to herd him out. Sheppard didn't take well to strangers as a rule. In fact, he only seemed willing to offer cooperation of any sort to Rodney and no one else.

"Give him this," O'Neill said as he reached Rodney. He was holding out a flat object, disk shaped.

"What is it?" Rodney asked, even as he took it. It hummed and dimly lit up in his palm. It was the size of his palm and felt warm.

O'Neill shrugged. "Don't know. Carter found it a few weeks ago on a mission. We know it's Ancient related, since so far I'm the only one who can operate it and it doesn't do all that much more for me than it's doing for you. Give it to Sheppard and let's see what he does with it. It's a piece of Atlantis, so maybe it'll comfort him."

Rodney was skeptical, and almost said as much, but after turning back to watch Sheppard in his agitated state, he figured it couldn't hurt. So he went to the Colonel and held out the disc.

After a moment, Sheppard stopped pacing and moved to Rodney. Slowly he reached out and touched the disc, tugging it from Rodney's grasp.

Rodney was stunned as it lit up, glowing brightly with shimmering rainbow colors. Then the hum turned into something more distinctive. It took Rodney a moment to realize it was musical. Something haunting and lyrical and unlike anything he had ever heard before. It didn't sound like an instrument playing so much as a voice making the sound. In truth, he really couldn't describe what it was, beyond beautiful.

Sheppard seemed enamored of it. He clutched it tightly to his chest before moving back into the corner with his blanket. He didn't curl into a ball this time, instead he settled down loose-limbed and comfortable.

To Rodney's surprise, the Colonel closed his eyes and tilted his head back and after a moment...he smiled. It gave Rodney a surge of hope. He turned to O'Neill. "Good thinking on your part," he praised.

"I had to do something," O'Neill replied. "After the ass chewing Weir gave me when you told her about Sheppard being hit."

"You had that coming," Rodney retorted. He was still angry about that and knew it would be a long time before the image would leave him.

O'Neill nodded. "I know. Go get some rest, McKay. I'll keep watch over Sheppard. He seems pretty content at the moment."

Rodney turned to look at the Colonel and to his surprise it looked like Sheppard had fallen asleep. It reminded Rodney of his own exhaustion, so he nodded. "I'll take a nap, but wake me if you need me." When O'Neill confirmed he would, Rodney slipped out of the room. He did a face plant on his bed when he got there and closed his eyes, letting himself drift into darkness with that feeling of hope still lingering.

But the hope didn't last and Rodney came awake with a jolt, sensing that something was wrong.

Pushing off his bed, he took a moment to answer mother nature's call, then he splashed cold water on his face and ran out. Glancing at his watch he was stunned to realize he had slept for six hours. Racing down the hallway, he skidded to a halt in front of the observation window and felt his blood run cold from the sight before him. Sheppard was lying in bed in restraints.

Fury washing over him, Rodney headed for the door, only to be cut off by O'Neill who suddenly appeared before him.

"Take it easy, McKay and let me explain," the General beseeched him.

"Please do explain!" Rodney snapped. "What the hell did Purdie do to him now?" Because he knew whatever had happened, it was that man's fault.

O'Neill winced and drew Rodney down the hallway until they reached a relatively private alcove. "Look, first things first. You need to know that Sheppard is okay, he's just sedated."

Rodney felt his stomach twist into a knot. Sedated was so not a good thing. "Tell me what happened," he demanded.

"Purdie wanted to see what would happen if we took the disc from Sheppard," O'Neill began, holding up a hand when Rodney was about to explode. "For the record, I told him to do it. To see if it really was making as big a difference as it seemed to be making. And Sheppard flipped out. He attacked Purdie and broke his nose."

"Good." The word was out before Rodney could stop himself. He felt Purdie deserved it and he wouldn't take it back. But that didn't explain the restraints. "Wasn't sedating Sheppard good enough? Why the restraints? And why didn't you call me?"

Heaving a sigh, O'Neill rubbed his temples, as if trying to ease an ache. "It happened to fast to call you, McKay. Besides which, you needed the rest."

Rodney shook his head. "Not good enough. How long ago did it happen?"

"About twenty minutes ago. I was just on my way to wake you but you got here first." O'Neill tried to look repentant. "Helping Sheppard is going to be all about trials and tribulations, so to speak. Try to look at this as something positive."

"You're kidding, right?" Rodney was stunned that O'Neill could even suggest such a thing. He stepped out of the alcove, intent on being with Sheppard. He heard O'Neill's footsteps behind him and called over his shoulder. "Where's the disc now?"

Two running steps and O'Neill caught up. "I gave it back to Sheppard. It's in his hand so it'll be there when he wakes up."

Rodney was relieved to hear that. "How long before he wakes up?"

"A couple of hours." O'Neill cut him off as they reached Sheppard's door. "Another positive aspect is that the Colonel can use the rest."

"Right." Rodney pushed the General out of the way and entered the room. He moved to John's side, checking his right hand and seeing the reddened knuckles. A smile curved his lips. He hoped Sheppard smashed Purdie's nose but good. Still smiling he removed the restraints. He didn't want Sheppard waking up bound. Once the Colonel was free, Rodney grabbed a chair and sat down, his eyes on the other man's pale face. He hoped this event hadn't set things back. It was bad enough that Rodney couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something very, very bad.

OoO

_He knew something was wrong._ _The voices were different. Softer. He felt unsettled and uncertain until he felt it. The warm vibration that washed over him in soothing waves. Then he heard the soft voice singing to him. He had missed this. Missed her. But he knew it was just a piece of her and that she was hurting in some way. She was sad and it made him ache inside. _

_There was another ache, in his head. A constant thrumming ache that made him feel uneasy. The voices were still there too, skittering on the surface of his awareness._

_A loud voice suddenly pierced her soft hum, making him flinch and he rolled away from it, landing on something hard and suddenly he couldn't breathe and hands touched him. He recognized that touch and knew it was safe so he let the touch and the voice guide him to his feet. He let the touch make him swallow the warm wetness. He let the touch guide him into an unfamiliar place._

_It echoed in this place. The hands moved over him and he felt cold and vulnerable and that scared him. Then he was drenched in liquid heat and the voices were back but he closed his eyes as the hands moved him. He reached for her voice, clutching her warmth in his own hand._

OoO

Giving Sheppard a shower was an experience Rodney would not soon forget. Although the Colonel seemed to enjoy the water once he was under it. In fact, Rodney had a hard time getting him to leave. Drying him off was almost amusing, as was getting him dressed. Amusing and sad, because it was during times like this that he seemed so much like nothing more than a life-sized doll. Yet he was so much more than that and Rodney wanted the John Sheppard who was the head of the military in Atlantis, and the best friend he'd ever had, back.

Once they were both dry and dressed, Rodney guided Sheppard back to his room. The entire time he had clutched the disc and Rodney had let him. Now back in the room he started pacing again. But at least he didn't look as washed out in black sweat pants and a black t-shirt. Rodney thought maybe the colors would be familiar to the Colonel, since he had favored black on Atlantis. Plus he figured they had to be more comfortable than the scrubs. Not that Sheppard seemed to notice. He simply grabbed the blue blanket off the bed and started pacing about the room from corner to corner.

Rodney watched him pace for over an hour before begging O'Neill to bring his laptop. He played a few games and did some research while Sheppard continued pacing. He didn't go into the corner at all. New behavior yet again. Which sent Rodney off to talk to Kel, who showed interest in the new information and assured Rodney he would look into it immediately and get back to him.

Feeling like he'd finally offered something useful, Rodney headed for the messhall. He grabbed two turkey sandwiches. Since John was showing a change in patterns, maybe he was ready for new foods to be introduced. Rodney knew Sheppard needed to start eating solids. Since he'd fallen ill he'd lost at least ten pounds. Ten pounds he could ill afford to lose.

Reaching Sheppard's room, Rodney was surprised to see Purdie at the door. But he smiled when he saw the tape over the man's swollen nose. "What are you doing here?" Rodney demanded.

"I'm working," Purdie replied, his tone sounding nasally. "Colonel Sheppard is my patient, Dr. McKay. You would do well to remember that."

"And you would do well to remember that he's my friend," Rodney shot back. Which was when he noticed the item in Purdie's hand. "What is that?" 

Purdie shook out the red fabric, revealing it to be a blanket." I'm going to introduce a new color to Colonel Sheppard and observe his reaction. If it's okay with you?" Sarcasm dripped from Purdie's voice.

Rodney opened his mouth to argue with him, only to realize he didn't have a good argument against the test. Sheppard liked the blue and seemed content with the black he was wearing, so why not introduce more color. It would make the room seem less sterile. "I guess that's okay," Rodney replied. "But I'll be watching you."

"Of course." Purdie offered a smile that looked more like a grimace, then he entered Sheppard's room.

Watching from the observation window, Rodney wasn't surprised when Sheppard kept pacing until Purdie stepped directly into his path. He watched the Doctor hold up the red blanket, then he watched all hell break loose as Sheppard stared at the blanket then started screaming.

To Rodney's stunned horror, Sheppard grabbed the blanket and started trying to shred it with his bare hands. He screams turned to shouts. Running into the room, Rodney made out a few words. _Death_, and _blood_, and _no more_, but then he was busy trying to grab the blanket and toss it aside. He finally got it away from Sheppard and he threw it at Purdie, who ran from the room. But Sheppard was still freaking out and Rodney saw the hulk sized orderlies approaching. He wasn't going to let them hurt Sheppard again so he grabbed the Colonel, holding him tight and feeling how thin Sheppard was. Feeling the taut body trembling.

"Back off!" Rodney shouted to the orderlies, giving them the evil eye for good measure.

But they didnt' back off until O'Neill entered the room and waved them out. He watched Rodney and Sheppard until the Colonel's shouts became hoarse whispers. Until the hands clenched in Rodney's shirt loosened and Sheppard became dead weight in his arms.

Rodney was grateful when O'Neill helped him get Sheppard on the bed and he didn't argue when a nurse approached with a syringe. He nodded at her, knowing that sedating Sheppard was the right thing to do. For the moment. But once he was sure Sheppard was okay, he was going to call Carson.

"That could have gone better," O'Neill commented, once Sheppard was drugged and covered and looking surprisingly peaceful as he slept.

There was nothing Rodney could say to that, so he simply settled himself in the chair to watch over Sheppard as he slept.

**THE END...of part 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 7**

"Rodney, it's Elizabeth , can you hear me?"

Rodney glanced up at the screen and saw Elizabeth , with Ronon and Teyla standing behind her. "Yes, I can hear you now. Ronon, Teyla, it's good to see you guys as well." Rodney swallowed hard, missing his friends and the city now more than ever.

Ronon gave a curt nod, but Teyla smiled and took a half step forward as she peered at the screen in front of her. "It is good to see you too, Rodney. Are you well?"

Rodney sighed and braced himself, wanting to sound as positive as possible, not an easy feat for him. "Not bad. I got the Colonel to eat something besides soup. Well, a few bites anyway."

"Have you found anything in the records there at the SGC?" asked Elizabeth hopefully.

"Sort of. I've been comparing the Colonel's test results and symptoms to what happened to General O'Neill. The general let me read the mission reports and told me everything he could remember. I'm convinced that whatever happened to Sheppard is similar, but somehow not the same."

"Because the effects on John have been different than the ones General O'Neill experienced," said Teyla.

"Yes, that and his test results show some different things as well. But he is speaking some Ancient words, at least the few that I've been able to understand, and we all know Sheppard doesn't speak Ancient. Something had to have put that knowledge in his head. It's almost like an attempt was made to download one of those repositories, but the transmission got screwed up or scrambled or something. And I think there's more to it than just knowledge."

Elizabeth frowned. "Like what?"

Rodney paused and rubbed the side of his face before looking back at the screen. "He . . . sometimes he says stuff, like death and blood and he gets really agitated, almost like he's afraid. I think maybe something besides knowledge has been downloaded into him. Personal accounts from some of the Ancients or maybe actual memories. I don't know exactly what, but there's more here than what happened to O'Neill. It's . . . more complicated."

Elizabeth bowed her head and rubbed her temple, her level of worry going up instead of down. Taking a deep breath, she forced her head up to make eye contact with Rodney. "I'm afraid we aren't having any luck here. We've sent teams to check everywhere John's been for the last few weeks and there is nothing. No unexplained events, no missing time periods, no interaction with unexplained Ancient devices, nothing."

Rodney seemed to think for a few minutes before answering. "How long before the _Daedalus_ gets back to Earth?"

Elizabeth paused for a few moments. "The General can give you a more accurate date, but I'm thinking about four more days. Why?"

"I keep going back to how often we were on the _Daedalus_ the last few days before the Colonel collapsed. And he said his headache started while all that beaming back and forth was going on. I can't help but think there's some kind of connection, although I admit that I don't have a clue what. I need to see the records from the ship and talk to Hermiod."

Elizabeth nodded and looked at the screen a few seconds. "How's John?" she asked softly.

Rodney tried to maintain a relaxed expression and not show on his face how badly his stomach was knotted with fear. "About the same. He's done some new things, but it's not really an improvement. Some strange pacing techniques and what not. Kel wants to do some kind of test on him in a little while. He's combined some kind of Asgard gizmo with some Earth voodoo test equipment. The only problem is . . . "

Elizabeth straightened and Teyla and Ronon stepped closer to the screen, nervous at Rodney's hesitation. "What is it, Rodney?" asked Teyla.

"Kel . . . they said that the test might be a little . . . uncomfortable."

"How uncomfortable?" asked Elizabeth , frowning deeply.

Rodney puffed out a deep breath. "He said it might make his head hurt and interfere with his coordination for a few hours afterward. It's not supposed to be anything bad, but in Sheppard's current state, anything is a big deal. I've worked hard to gain his trust and I don't want to jeopardize it."

"Can't they just knock him out?" asked Ronon.

"No, Kel says he needs to be awake so he can try to get him to react to different kinds of stimuli and then record the brain's response. They're just going to give him something to help him relax. The other thing is that Sheppard has to stay still for the procedure, so they're putting him in restraints. I'm afraid of how he's going to react to all this. I'm . . . I'm afraid I'll lose what little is left of him."

They were all silent for several seconds, wishing there was something more they could do. Rodney finally cleared his throat. "I'd better go. They're due to start that test in a few minutes and I need to keep an eye on things. Dr. Purdie is helping and I don't trust that man as far as I can pick him up and throw him. He treats Sheppard more like a lab experiment than a patient."

"Let us know if there's any change or if we can do anything to help. And Rodney . . . take care of him."

Rodney nodded. "I will. McKay out." He cut the connection and headed for Sheppard's room.

oOo

_Voices and sounds, words and emotions swirled around him, losing him in their chaotic dash through his mind. He searched for the familiar voice and touch that was almost always there. When he was afraid, it seemed to soothe him and he wasn't sure why. But he couldn't find it. _

_There were touches and voices that were making him afraid, pushing and pulling him. Shoving him and then holding him down. He struggled and fought, wanting the familiar voice to make it go away. He couldn't breathe. The noise rushed in his head, the voices of thousands screaming as he choked and gasped for air until suddenly everything was silent and he felt himself slipping away._

oOo

Rodney paused at the observation window, his mouth dropping open. He wasn't sure why he kept being surprised at the things Purdie pulled. They were supposed to wait for him before they even entered the room. Obviously none of them were capable of following directions.

Sheppard was already loaded in the bed, restraints around his wrists and ankles as he pulled weakly against them. Someone had started an IV in the back of his right hand and his eyes were glassy and drugged, his head gently lolling to one side. Kel stood talking to Purdie beside some strange looking machine on a cart sitting at the head of Sheppard's bed. Rodney clenched his fists and tried to tell himself to be calm as he stormed into the room.

"What the hell are you doing? You were supposed to wait for me."

Purdie sighed and looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but was restraining himself. "All we did was get him prepped. We were waiting for you to begin the actual test."

Rodney stood at Sheppard's bedside, looking down at the man. His eyes were at half-mast and he kept blinking and rolling them as if trying to focus on his surroundings. Rodney's eyes were drawn to the arm with the IV. The skin was reddened in several places and it took a few seconds for Rodney to see that some of the red blotches were in the shape of fingers that had gripped the arm. Rodney reached out to touch John's arm, causing the colonel to flinch back and whimper, pulling on the restraints to get away.

"What did you do to him? Have you seen these marks?"

Purdie sighed in exasperation while Kel worked on the machine next to the bed. "We needed to start the IV to administer the drugs and he fought us. We had to hold him down to keep him from injuring himself further. I assure you that no more force than necessary was used."

"If you had waited for me, I probably could have calmed him down so you didn't have to manhandle him like this. His arm will be bruised from this." Rodney turned back to the Colonel, looking at the confusion and fear in the face of his friend, even in his drugged state. And then he saw the colonel's neck. More reddened marks on his neck. He thought he could see fingermarks there as well, but they weren't as clear and he couldn't be sure.

"Purdie . . . I thought your goons were fired."

"They were not goons. And they were fired after you complained to General O'Neill."

"So who helped you restrain the Colonel, because it looks to me like they tried to strangle him." Rodney was barely keeping his anger in check, hoping there was a reasonable explanation.

"I had my clinic send over two of my assistants that have been with me for years. I was with them the whole time and I assure you that the Colonel was not held down with any more force than was needed. No one tried to strangle him. He fought rather hard at first, so it is possible that one of them may have inadvertently made contact with his neck while holding him." Purdie slammed down the file that he had been holding and stalked over to help Kel.

Rodney snorted as he continued to stare at Sheppard. He could guess what had happened. Someone who knew what they were doing had applied enough pressure to the Colonel's neck to cut off his oxygen until he passed out. He'd seen it done before. It was easier than trying to hold a struggling patient. Rodney closed his eyes and gripped the bedrail until he thought surely it would snap in two. There was no way he could prove what he knew and if he kept complaining about Purdie's helpers abusing Sheppard, they would probably stop listening to him. He would just have to do a better job of keeping an eye on Sheppard.

"I'm here, Colonel," he said softly, once again touching John on the arm. This time the Colonel didn't flinch away. "I'm here now. I'll keep them from hurting you any more." Rodney hoped he could keep that promise.

"We are ready," said Kel, who had come around to stand beside Rodney.

Rodney looked down at the tiny alien. "Do you think this will really help him?"

"I believe that it will provide information that will help us understand what is happening to Colonel Sheppard. Once we understand what is causing this, we have a much better chance of helping him."

Rodney nodded slowly, not wanting to subject his friend to any more pain and stress, but needing to do what was best for him. "Okay, do it."

Rodney watched carefully as Purdie connected two pads to Sheppard's forehead and one to each temple. He then clipped wires from the machine to each one. Kel watched from his position beside the machine. When Purdie had finished he nodded to the Asgard. "Okay, he's ready."

"Dr. McKay, you should step away from the Colonel," instructed Kel.

Rodney complied reluctantly, taking three steps back from the bed while trying to watch Sheppard, Kel, and Purdie all at the same time. When Kel pushed the button to turn on the machine, Sheppard visibly flinched, pulling both arms up against the restraints. Grunting so low Rodney barely heard him, the Colonel squeezed his eyes shut, his body going rigid.

"You're hurting him," said Rodney breathlessly, forcing himself not to rush forward and yank the electrodes off Sheppard's head.

"It is only a minor discomfort," said Purdie in a patronizing voice. "He is fine."

"Minor discomfort for who?" asked Rodney, wishing he'd never agreed to the test.

oOo

_The pain was intense, cutting through the crowd of voices and images overloading John's mind. It was so clear that he almost welcomed it as the only thing he'd understood in a long time. It seemed to make his brain vibrate in his skull. After a while it seemed to radiate down his neck and into his chest. There was no way to fight it, no way to escape it. He could only concentrate on it and wish for it to end. But it didn't end. It seemed to go on forever. _

_He could suddenly see white flashing lights and the pain intensified to the point he thought his head might explode. It rippled through him, sending shudders down his entire form as the agony peaked with a rush of voices and images before fading to silent blackness._

oOo

Rodney had endured the test for over an hour. Even though all he was doing was watching, he was so tense and scared that he felt like he'd run a marathon. Kel monitored the machine as he adjusted settings and took readings. He periodically had Purdie talk to Sheppard or touch him in various spots. He had him apply cold and heat, as well as prick his hand with a pin.

Rodney got nervous when Purdie injected something into Sheppard's IV about forty minutes into the test, assuring Rodney it was just part of the test and that the Colonel was fine. After an hour, Sheppard had developed fine tremors that seemed to be getting slowly worse. Rodney had decided to give it ten more minutes and then he was calling a halt to their little science project.

When he looked back on it, he almost remembered the events in slow motion. Kel flipped a switch on the machine and then pushed a red button. Sheppard's body tensed even more than it already was, sending warning bells off in Rodney's head. He opened his mouth to ask what they were doing when Kel began turning a dial, all the time watching the monitor screen of the device. Motion in his peripheral vision caught Rodney's attention, causing him to turn around in time to see Sheppard arch his back and begin to have a seizure.

"Shut it off!" Rodney screamed as he moved toward Sheppard. Several minutes of chaos ensued as they got the machine turned off and disconnected. The seizure only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to completely unravel Rodney. He paced nervously as Purdie checked Sheppard over. All he could think of was that he wished Carson was here because Sheppard was in trouble and the only thing they had was apparently a real witchdoctor.

"He's fine, Dr. McKay," said Purdie after taking Sheppard's vital signs and doing the penlight thing with his eyes. "It was a mild seizure and no damage was done. He just needs to rest for a bit. I think I'll leave the IV in for now, just in case any problems develop."

Rodney turned on the doctor, his eyes flashing hate. "He's anything but fine. Just what kind of problems do you expect, because with you around I figure he'll develop them."

Purdie smiled as if talking to a small child. "There's no need to get nasty, Dr. McKay. As I've informed you, no harm was done. Perhaps Kel has gained valuable information that can be used to help the Colonel. Now, I'm going to check with him so we can go over the test results. Maybe you should stay with the Colonel, so he'll have someone familiar with him when he wakes up. We'll discuss our findings later."

Rodney was pretty sure his blood was boiling as he watched Purdie leave. It was time for another talk with O'Neill. He needed to get the information from the _Daedalus_ as soon as possible so he could figure this whole thing out. He needed to get Sheppard out of here before they "helped" him any more.

oOo

Purdie entered the lab that had been set aside for him and Kel to work and closed the door. Walking across the room to where Kel worked, he grabbed a chair and sat down beside the alien. "So, did you get anything useful?"

Kel turned to look at him with his large eyes, giving Purdie a case of the creeps. "I see why the downloading process did not work properly. By loading it in increments, it has become intertwined with the Colonel's own memories and emotions. The information also included personal memories of hundreds of people that have nothing to do with useful information. That material should have been filtered out before the process was begun. The useful knowledge has become entangled with the memories and the Colonel's own experiences to the point I do not believe they can be separated."

Purdie frowned, disappointment showing on his face. "So Sheppard's not any good to us. He can't access or use any of the knowledge."

The Asgard shook his head. "No, he cannot. And we cannot undo what has been done. We must hope they do not figure out how this happened."

"Are you sure we can't just put Sheppard back like he was? Maybe they would be so glad, they'd just drop it and go home."

"I am certain. I made a brief try to extract just a small part and that is what triggered the seizure. If I had tried to remove a large portion of what was downloaded, it would have killed him."

Purdie sighed loudly. "That McKay is making me nervous. He's like a guard dog around Sheppard. I'm afraid he might eventually figure out how it happened. He's asked for records from the _Daedalus_ when it returns."

"He will not find anything," said Kel. "We were very careful."

Purdie did not look convinced. "I don't know, he's pretty smart from what I hear. Maybe Sheppard could develop complications and die. Then McKay would have no reason to stay."

"I do not like the idea of killing any one if we do not have to. It makes matters more complicated."

"Part of me would like to do away with Dr. McKay. He's so smug and he talks down to me like I'm an idiot. I wouldn't mind cooking his goose just a little," murmured Purdie.

Kel shook his head. "We do not kill unless we have no other choice. For now, we will watch and wait. McKay already suspects that knowledge has been downloaded into the Colonel's brain, he just does not know how. I will confirm that this is so and tell him my findings about the information being mixed up the with Colonel's memories and experiences. Then I will tell him that it will not be possible to restore the Colonel."

Purdie sighed, but nodded. "All right, we'll try it your way. Maybe if he knows the Colonel can't be fixed, he'll find some kind of permanent care facility for the man and go back to Atlantis. I hate it that our little project didn't work."

"We will analyze the information we have and attempt to make the process better. Then we will find another subject and try it again."

Purdie stood and shook his head. "That's not as easy as it sounds. I don't know where we'll find another subject as good as Sheppard."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 8**

_Everything hurt. His chest felt constricted and each breath made him want to whimper. He ached from the inside out and he was scared. The humming voice was gone. But even as he felt himself start to panic, he realized something. The other voices inside his head were quiet. Not gone, but muted. He felt almost as if he were alone in his head and it was both scary and a relief._

_But he missed the hum voice. She soothed him with her presence. He reached out for her and suddenly she was back again, a hard warmth in his hand, a soft whisper in his head._

_He whispered back then let himself drift into darkness._

OoO

Rodney sat beside Sheppard, watching him sleep. Sometimes watching the drops in the IV bag dripping slowly down the tube. He wondered what was in the bag and if he should be worried. Maybe he should call Carson. Maybe he should just talk to Elizabeth and see about bringing John home. He wasn't safe here and Rodney was beginning to realize he was helpless to protect him. Given the bruises that were already forming on Sheppard's arms and neck, Rodney felt like a failure.

Shifting on the bed, Sheppard mumbled, then whimpered, then curled up onto his side. He had been mumbling and restless for a while now, though better than when he had awakened and nearly bolted from the bed. It had taken Rodney a moment to realize that the disc was missing. He'd found it on the side table and pressed it into Sheppard's hand, watching the Colonel calm down immediately and drift back into sleep. But it wasn't a peaceful sleep, not even drugged as he was.

"How is he?"

Rodney didn't look up as O'Neill approached the bed. But he did answer the question. "He's hurting. They hurt him." Rodney did look up now, to glare at the General. "They hurt him badly." He put some of the blame squarely on O'Neill's shoulders. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to help Sheppard, not hurt him more."

O'Neill heaved a sigh, moving closer and letting his hands rest on the bedrail. He stared at Sheppard for a time, watching the Colonel shifting beneath the blankets, then he looked at Rodney and said, "Kel assured me that any pain was minimal."

"Well he's wrong!" Rodney was on his feet and practically shouting. Only to break off when Sheppard suddenly whimpered and looked distressed. Rodney cursed himself out, silently, watching Sheppard until the man stopped shifting around, going still for a moment. But he was still mumbling and Rodney winced before stepping away from the bed and gesturing for O'Neill to follow him to the far corner. Once there he said, "Do you know what he's been mumbling?"

"I don't know Ancient," O'Neill replied. "You know that."

Rodney did know, but he was trying to make a point here. "He keeps mumbling the same word over and over again. Just one word. Hurts. That's what he keeps saying. Hurts...hurts...hurts." Rodney felt himself get angry all over again as he repeated the word. "They hurt him, General. And he's still hurting and he can't even tell us where, or why. He couldn't tell them to stop. And if you think I'm going to let anyone touch him again, you're dumber than a box of rocks." Rodney was pretty sure he was crossing some line with his words, but he didn't care. All that mattered in this moment was protecting Sheppard.

There was a long moment of silence and O'Neill seemed to be considering what Rodney had said. He turned his focus back on Sheppard for a time, then he heaved a soft sigh before running one hand over his face and suddenly looking exhausted. "I'm sorry, McKay," he said quietly. "I really am. I don't want to cause Colonel Sheppard anymore pain, but I don't think Kel intended to hurt him."

"Purdie did, he enjoyed it." The words were out before Rodney could stop them. He couldn't help it. He didn't trust the man and he knew Purdie enjoyed hurting Sheppard. He just didn't understand why.

"What do you want me to do?" O'Neill countered.

And Rodney was relieved that he believed him and was willing to help. "I want to talk to Hermiod, to have him run some diagnostics on the _Daedalus_. Can we reach him from here?"

O'Neill suddenly grinned. "We can try. Come on."

But Rodney shook his head. "You go. If you connect, come get me. I won't leave Sheppard alone again. When I talk to Hermiod, I want you to stay with him." For a moment he thought the General was going to argue with him, but instead he nodded.

"Works for me." O'Neill clapped Rodney on the shoulder. "We'll find a way to make Sheppard better," he promised. "And even though you probably don't believe me, I am sympathetic to what he's going through. It's not the same as what happened to me, but there are some similarities and if he's got as much chaos going on in his head as I had in mine, then I can tell you this. He'll be grateful for whatever we had to do to fix him."

"Maybe so," Rodney allowed, because he couldn't even imagine what Sheppard was dealing with. But he doubted he would be grateful for the way Purdie had treated him to date. It was almost vengeful and it really rubbed Rodney the wrong way. In part because he just couldn't figure out what the man had against Sheppard. Especially when he was top in his field and supposed to be helping the Colonel. So why hurt him? Something was missing, like a puzzle piece, and Rodney was determined to figure out what it was.

O'Neill headed for the door. "I'll go make contact and be back soon," he promised. Then he was gone.

Rodney went back to Sheppard, settling himself in the uncomfortable chair to take up vigil once more. It was hard to see Sheppard like this. So pale and lost and fragile looking. Sheppard was always the one taking care of everyone else, watching over them and keeping them safe. It was hard having to keep watch over him instead. Hard to see him so damaged. They had to find a way to fix him. Rodney wanted his friend back, and Atlantis needed their hero. And the women of the Pegasus galaxy needed their Kirk back. That particular fancy made Rodney smile and his mouth stretched uncomfortably, making him realize he hadn't smiled in way too long.

Sheppard used to make him smile, with his pithy remarks and his ability to toss Rodney's sarcasm right back at him. He wanted that back and, dammit all, he was going to get it.

OoO

Rodney managed to sleep for a couple of hours, coming awake with a jolt when the bed rails rattled. Cursing his aching joints, he bolted out of the chair and moved to Sheppard, seeing the slim body shuddering under the blankets. He touched the pale face and he thought Sheppard might be feverish. Not so much that Rodney wanted to risk calling Purdie or his goons masquerading as medical personnel in to check on him.

Realizing he had to pee, Rodney figured Sheppard would have to go as well so he disconnected the IV, which had a new bag, which meant someone had come in while he was sleeping and Rodney shuddered at that thought, but pushed it aside to deal with Sheppard's needs. And wasn't that a kick? Putting someone else's needs before his own. When Sheppard was better and found out what Rodney had done for him, Rodney was never going to let him forget just how much he had sacrificed for him. He would be able to milk it for years to come. That thought comforted him as he got Sheppard out of bed and into the bathroom.

They both took care of nature, then Rodney got them both stripped and in the shower. It went smoother than the last time. Sheppard was more pliant to his touch and maybe more reactive, so Rodney got them both cleaned up in short order then out and dried. He got himself dressed then went to work on Sheppard. He'd had the foresight the other day to put his and Sheppard's clothes in the bathroom for easy access. He grabbed one of the Colonel's black t-shirts and turned back to slip it over the dark head, only to be surprised when Sheppard suddenly reached out and touched Rodney's face with the hand not clutching the disk.

To Rodney's surprise, Sheppard stared at him intently, his eyes fully focused for the first time in weeks. He wanted to say something but he was almost too afraid to breathe. Afraid he would shatter the moment. Then Sheppard's hand slipped to Rodney's temple and his eyes closed and Rodney jumped when the hum from the disk got louder and it began glowing bright and white and so intensely that Rodney had to close his eyes. 

Then John whispered one word. "Azul."

Rodney's eyes flew open in time to see Sheppard looking at him again and smiling. For a moment Rodney was sure that Sheppard was back, or close enough to call this moment a breakthrough, but even as he had the thought, Sheppard was pulling away and clutching his head before scrabbling away from Rodney and stuffing himself in the corner.

OoO

_The voices were loud again. They were familiar voices. The outside voices from before, only now they were inside his head. He saw images flashing in his head. Atlantis rising from the water, so pure and beautiful that it made him ache. He missed her._

_There were faces in his head as well. Faces with names, and he knew them._

_O'Neill, Beckett, Elizabeth, Sumner, Ford, Teyla, Everett, Kolya, Steve, Ronon...so many faces and names and voices._

_Then one louder than the others, the image brighter and sharper. Rodney. He knew that name and he knew the face and he felt the touch and it let him slip away._

OoO

Rodney felt panic rising up in a tidal wave as reached Sheppard just in time to catch him as he slumped over.

"McKay!"

O'Neill's voice was a lifeline.

"In the bathroom!" Rodney called out.

A moment later the General was kneeling beside him. "What happened?

Rodney wasn't sure where to start to explain. "He...he recognized me." The words were stuttered and quiet, but there.

"Are you sure?" O'Neill didn't hide his doubt.

"I..I think so." Rodney shifted Sheppard in his arms, trying to stand up with him. He was heavier than he looked, yet too slim now. Breakable. "He looked right at me," he said, accepting O'Neill's help in lifting Sheppard and carrying him back to bed. They got him settled and covered and Rodney realized Sheppard was still shirtless but that seemed trivial at the moment. He locked eyes with O'Neill. "He looked at me...and he touched my face. And the disk...it started to hum louder and glow and then he said something to me."

O'Neill looked intrigued. "What did he say?"

Rodney felt like the word was burned into his brain. "He said...azul."

"What's it mean?" O'Neill prompted.

"It means scientist." Rodney felt a sudden headrush and dropped into the chair until it passed. This had to mean something. He had no clue what, but it had to mean something good.

O'Neill tapped his shoulder. "I made contact with Hermiod. It's sketchy at best and probably won't last long, so you should go."

Rodney bolted towards the door. "Stay with him!" he called over his shoulder.

"I'll be here!" O'Neill shouted back.

Then Rodney was running down the corridor. He knew where to go and there was so much he needed to tell Hermiod and things he needed to ask. Sheppard had recognized him, Rodney was sure of it. And as soon as he talked to Hermiod he was going to call Elizabeth. He was going to give her a little bit of hope.

**THE END...of part 8**


	9. Chapter 9

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 9**

Walter nodded to Rodney as he sat down in front of the monitor. "Hermiod's ready, Dr. McKay."

Rodney wasted no time. "Hermiod, I need your help with something."

The large eyes of the Asgard blinked once slowly as he gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I have been apprised of Colonel Sheppard's condition. How can I help?"

"We think knowledge from the Ancients has somehow been downloaded into the Colonel's brain."

"Like what happened to General O'Neill?" asked Hermiod.

Rodney quirked his mouth to one side and frowned. How was he going to explain this when he didn't really understand it himself? "Yes and no. He's suddenly speaking Ancient, which I assure you Sheppard doesn't normally do, so we know it was Ancient information that was added, we just don't know how or when. He hasn't been in contact with anything even remotely able to do this in weeks. Plus, there's more to it than just knowledge we think. He hasn't been able to get out more than a handful of words, but what he has combined with his actions seems to indicate he's also had . . . memories . . . or maybe some kind of personal logs added as well."

Hermiod tilted his head slightly, as if thinking. He didn't really have an expression to read and that annoyed Rodney. "The Ancients did create some data bases with both information and personal memories from some of their population. These were actual memories copied from the brain, complete with any sensory information that accompanied the event. It would seem to anyone accessing one of these memories as if they were experiencing the event."

Rodney felt almost dizzy as the ramifications of what Hermiod said hit home. "So if all these memories are mixed up in his head and popping up several at a time, along with his own memories and the downloaded information . . . Oh my God, no wonder he's totally out of his mind."

Hermiod nodded. "It would be very intimidating, indeed. We should remove the Ancient information quickly, before it causes irreparable damage, if it has not done so already."

Rodney shook his head. "There's an Asgard here named Kel who's been working with a doctor to help Sheppard. He hooked up some kind of gizmo to test the Colonel, but when he tried to remove some of the information, it sent Sheppard into a seizure. He said he doesn't think he can help the Colonel."

"That is unfortunate. But I fail to see how I can help."

Rodney leaned forward slightly, more desperate that ever to help Sheppard. "We know this stuff wasn't downloaded into Sheppard like it was in O'Neill. Not only has Sheppard not been in contact with any of those Ancient repository things, but it's affecting him differently than it did O'Neill. I think whatever caused this happened aboard the _Daedalus_. All this started shortly after all those trips to the ship and his headache started right in the middle of all that beaming around we did."

"But you accompanied the Colonel on all his trips aboard. Did you see anything to make you think something was done to the Colonel?"

"No, but there was one trip where he got there a while before me. Maybe something happened before I came aboard. Look, I don't even know what we're looking for, I just don't see anything else that could explain this."

Hermiod sat silently for a few seconds before giving in. "I will go back through all of our transmissions and sensor readings for that time period to look for anomalies."

Rodney breathed out and nodded tiredly. The stress and lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him. "Thanks. I just . . . I need to find something to help him."

"I will do what I can. And Dr. McKay, you would be wise to keep watch over the Colonel. Kel has been involved in some questionable research in the past and I am not at all sure that he has Colonel Sheppard's best interests in mind."

Rodney sighed loudly. It figured. "And he's the one I thought I could trust. I know Purdie's up to something. We should have just stayed in Atlantis. At least we didn't have to watch our back there."

"I am sorry for your distress, Dr. McKay. I will try to find something that can help."

Rodney gave him a short nod. "Contact me if you find anything."

Hermiod nodded before breaking the connection. Rodney turned sideways to face Walter again, pausing to yawn. "I need to contact Atlantis."

Walter nodded as if he'd expected the request. "General O'Neill mentioned you might. Just give me a few seconds to make the connection." Walter immediately began punching buttons to dial the city. Within a minute, Rodney was looking at Elizabeth.

"Rodney, I didn't expect to hear from you today. Good news, I hope."

Rodney tried to smile, taking in her blatantly hopeful expression. His earlier excitement had been dimmed by the revelation of just what kind of hell Sheppard was probably trapped in. "Yes, it is. He's still in there, Elizabeth and I have proof. His eyes focused on me for a few moments and he called me azul. I think he remembers me."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and her face brightened. "Oh, Rodney . . . you really think he knew you?"

"I do, if only for a few moments." Rodney's spirits got a small boost as he remembered the look of recognition in Sheppard's eyes.

Elizabeth nodded. "That is good news. Have you made any progress on figuring out what happened or finding a way to help John?"

Rodney glanced down and bit his lip a second before addressing the questions. "Some, but this is the bad news. Kel and Purdie tried something new and it caused the Colonel to have a seizure."

"What?" The alarm in Elizabeth's voice and face was unmistakable.

"He's okay, it didn't last long. But some weird things have been going on over here and I don't trust these people. O'Neill got his medical records together and I've added some of my own notes and pictures. Walter's going to send them in a minute and I want Carson to take a look. I need to know if they're doing anything to him to make him worse. They've been giving him an IV and I don't know what's in it or what to look for. I need to know what to do."

Elizabeth's face tightened, the muscle in her jaw twitching. "I'll get it to him. Do you really think he's not safe there?"

Rodney shrugged his shoulders and rubbed the side of his aching head. "I have no idea, but I'm worried. Kel finally admitted after sending Sheppard into convulsions that he probably can't help him. I'm just afraid that now they'll think of him as their own personal lab rat and try to dissect his brain or something."

"Rodney."

"Okay, okay, so O'Neill would never let that happen. I think he kind of likes Sheppard, kindred spirits or something. I talked to Hermiod and he's going to look for anything unusual on the _Daedalus_. I still think that's where this whole thing started."

Elizabeth nodded as she thinned her lips. "I'm beginning to agree with you. Ronon, Teyla, and Major Lorne have retraced your steps for the last several weeks and there just isn't anything to explain this."

Rodney nodded in agreement. "The _Daedalus_ has to be the answer. And Hermiod said the Ancients had repositories that stored memories, complete with sensory awareness, along with the factual stuff. I think the Colonel is basically reliving every aspect of several memories at once. If he isn't already stark raving insane, he will be shortly if we don't get that stuff out of his head."

"Oh, Rodney," Elizabeth said softly.

The stricken look on Elizabeth's face made the scientist regret his outburst. He felt so helpless. "I know," he responded quietly.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Just let me know if Carson thinks I need to be doing anything. I'm afraid to leave him alone for any length of time, so General O'Neill is with him now. I should probably get back before Sheppard wakes up."

Elizabeth nodded. "Take care of him for me Rodney, and take care of yourself too. You need sleep."

"I can sleep later. Right now I need to watch the Colonel's back."

"I want him back, Rodney. I need him. Atlantis needs him."

Rodney looked at her through the monitor, so very far away. "We all do. Tell everyone hi for me and I'll talk to you soon." Rodney turned to Walter, who was watching him expectantly. "Send it."

oOo

Rodney stood at the observation window for a few moments, watching O'Neill and Sheppard. The colonel was curled up in the bed, both arms wrapped protectively around the disc. His eyes were only half open and he was mumbling softly to himself. O'Neill leaned forward in his seat, concentration heavy on his face, as if he was trying to understand what Sheppard was saying. Rodney smiled, feeling more and more like this was a man he could trust. Pushing back from the window, he entered the white room.

"Did he say anything of interest?" asked Rodney.

O'Neill sat back in the chair and glanced up at the scientist. "Heck if I know. I think I caught the word _trapped_ once or twice."

Rodney stared at O'Neill in confusion. "He said trapped?"

O'Neill shrugged his shoulders as he unfolded his long frame from the chair. "Well, not the word trapped, per say, but irretiri. At least I think that's the Ancient word for trapped."

"I thought you didn't speak Ancient."

"I don't. Daniel gave me and Teal'c a sort of a mini crash course a few years back when we had our own personal version of Groundhog Day. I've tried to forget as much of that whole experience as possible, but as luck would have it, a few words have escaped my efforts and are apparently lodged in my brain. Imagine my surprise."

Rodney nodded as understanding swept across his face. "Oh, yeah, I remember reading that report now. Quite fascinating, actually, although I probably would have –"

"McKay, save it for Carter," O'Neill said wryly. "I can pretty much guarantee that whatever you are about to say would be completely wasted on me."

Rodney breathed out and gave a single nod of acceptance. "Thanks for staying with the Colonel and for getting the medical reports together. I sent them to Elizabeth and she's going to pass them on to Carson."

"No problem. Look, for what it's worth, I really only meant to help Sheppard, not hurt him. He deserves better than this."

"Yes, he does. Just don't let those clowns near him again, at least not until I hear from Carson," asked Rodney.

"That I can do. Now, you need to get some rest McKay, and something to eat."

Rodney looked at John and was suddenly struck by how helpless he looked. He had to swallow hard to keep the emotions pushed down and out of the way. "I don't want to leave him alone right now. Now that I understand better what he's fighting, I want to be here incase he gets a moment of lucidity. He should have a friendly, familiar face here."

O'Neill watched Rodney as he studied Sheppard. "All right, I can't say I'd do any differently if it was one of my team. I'll have some food and a cot brought up for you."

"Sistere!" Both men turned at the sound of John's yell. "Sistere, sistere, sistere," he repeated frantically, raking both hands back and forth through his hair as he twisted his head side to side and resumed mumbling.

"What's he saying?" asked O'Neill.

"Stop," replied Rodney as he stepped in front of John and grabbed his wrists, stopping the frantic motion. Pushing John's hands down in his lap, Rodney then placed his palms on the sides of John's face and leaned forward, their noses only inches apart. "Colonel, it's Rodney," he said slowly and firmly. "I'm here and everything's okay. Just calm down and listen to me. You're going to be all right and I'll be right here with you."

John stilled and his eyes seemed to focus momentarily. "Azur."

Rodney smiled and relaxed his grip. "Yes, azur. I won't leave you."

John brought the disc up and ran his hand across it, smiling briefly as his face relaxed. A few seconds later, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he brought one hand up to the side of his head.

"Injuriae."

"I know it hurts, but hang on. We're going to find a way to help you."

"Azur."

Rodney nodded. "Azur will help you."

"Lantea." John rolled away from Rodney and out of the bed, stumbling to the wall. Shifting the disc to his left hand, he ran his right one gently along the wall, carefully making his way around the room.

"He's searching for Atlantis again," explained Rodney before O'Neill had a chance to ask. "He misses her."

When John made it back to the corner he'd started from, his hand dropped limply to his side. Letting out a strangled whimper, he crouched down against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest and the disc cradled against him. Closing his eyes, he began to rock gently and whispering to himself.

They stood watching for several minutes before O'Neill finally tore his gaze away. "I'll, uh, just go see to getting that stuff for you." His voice was a bit shakier than he had intended.

"Thanks," Rodney said. Just before the door closed, he turned to O'Neill's retreating back. "Hey, no citrus."

oOo

_The voices and images rolled and surged, pushing each other out of the way in their quest for his attention. Familiar voices and not so familiar voices. Running across a field in a strange uniform, firing a weapon he was unfamiliar with, protecting people he didn't know. But then he was laying down cover fire for his team. Blood on his hands and clothes, then water, then sand and dirt. He was hot. He was cold. Words and sounds he knew, but he didn't know. His one thought was for silence and darkness, but neither would come._

_As the panic and pain in his head grew, John begged for the onslaught to stop, but it didn't. As he struggled against the flashing imagery and noise, a familiar voice penetrated the fog and drew his attention. Focusing with all his might, he was able to see beyond the scenes in his head for a few seconds. His friend. Rodney. For a brief moment, he felt hope, lasting until the chaos in his head took over and drowned everything else out. He reached out for the singing that always comforted him, but it wasn't there, only a small hum. Reaching out with his mind, he searched for her, knowing she could help him, but found only silence. As the pain in his head escalated, he gave up and went back to the hum and the small amount of relief that it provided._

oOo

Elizabeth sat staring at her computer screen, her mind in a completely different galaxy. The helpless, confused look on John's face kept popping into her mind, making her shudder with fear for him.

"Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth jumped, jerking her head up to see Teyla standing in the doorway to her office, Ronon's large form looming behind her. "Oh, sorry . . . guess I let my mind wander. Come in, please. Did you find anything?" Her tone of voice displayed the fact that she didn't expect that they had.

Teyla took a seat while Ronon leaned against the wall, his arms across his chest. "We did not find anything that would explain the Colonel's condition," said Teyla. "We have been to every world we visited in the last three months. I do not believe continuing these searches will provide anything useful."

"I agree," said Elizabeth. "I talked to Rodney earlier today and he's more convinced than ever that something happened to John aboard the _Daedalus_. He's convinced Hermiod to check all their readings during the time John was on board to see if he can find anything. I just hope they're able to . . . " She trailed off as she watched a very angry Carson Beckett storm into her office.

Two steps in the doorway, Carson tossed several photos on Elizabeth's desk, sending them sliding across the surface to splay out in front of her. He then proceeded to pace restlessly back and forth in the narrow space in front of her desk, his breathing loud and fast. If she hadn't seen him come through the door, she would have thought Rodney was there to embark on a tirade about his incompetent staff.

"Just look at those and tell me what you see," he finally barked.

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Teyla and then looked down at the photos. The first two were different views of an arm showing livid bruising scattered from the wrist to just above the elbow. She looked at it for several seconds before it occurred to her what it must be. "Is this John?"

Carson stopped in front of her. "Aye. See this," he said, pointing to the discolored area just above and below the elbow. "What does that look like?"

She stared at the familiar pattern for a few moments before she got it. "Is that a handprint . . . finger marks?"

"Aye, it is. That's where those bloody fools held him down so hard they left bruises where they gripped him. But it's the next two that really make my blood boil."

Elizabeth shuffled the photos to move the bottom two to the top. They were two different angles of John's neck, once again showing dark bruises. She squinted, her mouth dropping open slightly. "Oh, Carson, they didn't," she whispered.

Teyla and Ronon both moved up to see the photos. Teyla gasped as Ronon clenched his fists and growled in anger. "They strangled him?" asked Teyla in shock.

"Aye," Carson said, his voice tight with emotion. "They got tired of fighting him, so they cut off his oxygen until he passed out and they could sedate him." He paced back and forth a few times before turning back to the trio at the desk. "I'll admit when Colonel Sheppard is disoriented, he can be a handful. And I won't pretend that my staff hasn't put a few bruises on him when he was fighting us. But never anything like this and I guarantee they always had more injuries inflicted by him than the other way around. That's because we care about our patients and we believe we must strive to do no harm, even when the patient isn't exactly cooperative. This is inexcusable under any circumstances."

Ronon hit his clenched fist against his thigh and grunted. "Is this the way your people treat their injured soldiers?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, of course not. But like most other societies, we have some people that . . . don't really have much in the way of standards. Sometimes they get in a position where they can hurt people. I'm afraid that's what's happened here."

Carson looked down at the photos. "I'm going to the SGC so I can help Rodney look after the Colonel, at least until he gets a chance to talk to Hermiod. I need to make sure Colonel Sheppard's okay. I owe the lad that much."

"I'm going with you," announced Ronon. "Sheppard needs someone to watch his back while he's down."

"I would like to go as well," said Teyla.

Elizabeth sat staring at the concerned people in front of her. She was proud of them for wanting to protect John and she wanted them to go, but she knew there was a chance they wouldn't be able to.

"Look, I'm all for the three of you going, but you have to realize a few things. It's not up to me, it's up to General O'Neill. And even if he let's Carson go, he may not allow Ronon and Teyla."

"You can convince him," Ronon said confidently.

Elizabeth had to smile at the runner's confidence in her. "Well, I can certainly try. And this is not permanent. Atlantis needs the three of you and Rodney as much as it needs John. If there's nothing that can be done, you'll have to come back in a few days."

"Then we will bring him back home," said Teyla. "We will care for him and make sure he is tended to in a manner that gives him the respect he deserves, that he has earned. Atlantis is his home now."

Elizabeth dropped her head sadly and sighed before looking back up at the Athosian. "Teyla, in a sense I agree with you, but it will never happen. This is an expedition and someone with serious, debilitating injuries cannot be cared for here. We aren't set up for that and it drains personnel needed for the expedition. I can guarantee the Air Force will not let him return unless he's been cured of whatever this is or unless there is a substantial chance that returning him to the city will help him recover. So far there is no evidence of that."

"We cannot leave him on Earth with people that do not care for him and will not protect him from harm. He should be here with his friends . . . his family." Teyla's expression was as firm as her voice.

Elizabeth knew how she felt. Elizabeth wanted John back in Atlantis, even if he never got the help he needed. He belonged here. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. I'll contact General O'Neill and ask about the three of you going to Earth for a few days, at least until Rodney's had a chance to consult with Hermiod about the _Daedalus_."

"Good," said Carson. "When will you be contacting the General?"

Elizabeth could tell that the people in front of her weren't leaving until she had made the request. "I guess now, since you people seem to be relentless."

Ronon nodded. "Then we can pack."

Elizabeth left her office with three anxious people trailing behind her, wondering what she would do if O'Neill said no.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 10**

_He drifted off into warm darkness, sometimes floating back into cool brightness. In between, he remembered things. Fragments of faces and places and dreams. He tried to focus on the fragments, even though it made his head hurt, and suddenly they came together, like puzzle pieces, forming images that hit him like a kick in the gut._

_He knew the faces. Teyla, Ronon, Carson, Elizabeth and Rodney. He knew what they meant. He felt suddenly safe and warm at the thought of them. He knew they were different from the other faces and dreams. "Rod...ney..." he whispered, before whimpering at the pain that suddenly spiked in his temples. He buried his free hand in his hair, tugging hard, wanting to rip out the pain._

Rodney had dozed off on the cot but he jerked awake at the sound of his name. For a moment he thought he might have imagined it, because the voice had been so quiet. But then he remembered where he was and he was stumbling to his feet and over to the corner where Sheppard was huddled. The sound of his name had awakened him because of the voice. A very familiar voice. Sheppard's voice.

"Colonel?" Rodney moved to kneel in front of his friend. Sheppard was shaking, his exposed skin, sheened with a cold sweat. It hurt Rodney to look at him. To see the purples and blues and greens of mottled bruising on arms and neck. It made him angry as well. He wanted to hunt down Purdie and punch him in the face. Hard. More than once. Or, better yet, sic Ronon on him. That would be nothing less than what the man deserved.

Shaking such thoughts aside, Rodney focused on Sheppard. The shaking was intense and one hand was tugging hard on the thick thatch of dark hair. The messy strands had grown out already, but there wouldn't be many of them left at the rate Sheppard was going. So Rodney grabbed the hand and gently detangled the fingers. He continued holding the trembling appendage, feeling how cold Sheppard's skin was. Then suddenly, the slim fingers tightened and Rodney gasped in surprise. He looked up at the pale face and the hazel-green eyes that were glazed, but even as Rodney stared into them, they focused on him with the intensity of a laser beam. He was about to say something but Sheppard beat him to it.

"Rodney," he whispered, as clear as day.

Unfortunately, Rodney didn't get a chance to rejoice because at that very moment Sheppard chose to collapse. It was a boneless type of melting to the floor that scared the hell out of Rodney, complete with eyes rolling up and skin turning ghostly pale. Which made the pattern of bruises all the more vivid.

Reaching for his radio, Rodney screamed for help.

OoO

The first thing Rodney did was hold on tight to Sheppard and refuse to let Purdie anywhere near the Colonel. Which worked out in the end because Jack had already made arrangements for Dr. Lam to take over Sheppard's medical care. But even with Lam in charge of his friend, Rodney had a hard time walking away. It wasn't until Sheppard was in bed and sleeping, thanks to being lightly sedated, that Rodney allowed himself to be pushed out of the room. And only then after Lam promised to stay with Sheppard so that he wouldn't wake up alone, and that she would call Rodney the moment the Colonel so much as twitched.

Even though he was beyond exhausted, Rodney didn't head for his room. Instead he went to see Hermiod, who had just arrived on the _Daedalus_, only to find out that the Asgard didn't have anything to tell him. He did admit to having discovered a few anomalies, but he wouldn't share them with Rodney. Instead he ordered him out of there, going so far as to contact O'Neill. The General showed up and manhandled Rodney out the door, down the hall and into his room.

"Go to sleep, McKay," O'Neill ordered. "If you collapse, who's going to take care of Sheppard?"

"That would be your job!" Rodney snapped back, glaring at the General. "I expect Sheppard to be in the same condition I left him in when I wake up. And trust me when I say, you'll regret it if he's not."

O'Neill held up both hands, in a gesture of appeasement. "I'll take care of Sheppard. He'll be fine."

But Rodney shook his head. "No, he won't be fine. He won't be anything but a mess until we figure this out." It was exhaustion that was making Rodney feel both more punchy than usual and a bit maudlin. Not to mention a tad defeatist.

"Sleep," O'Neill repeated firmly. He stood at the door until Rodney stumbled towards his bed.

"Fine, I'll sleep." Rodney took just long enough to toe off his shoes before face planting on the bed. He was pretty sure he didn't even count two heart beats before he was asleep.

Rodney slept deeply, but still somewhat restlessly. He dreamed about Sheppard turning into a bug, about Chaya forcing the Colonel to ascend and then Koyla popping up and shooting Sheppard in the head. Only Rodney then watched, in fascinated horror, as the wound slowly sealed closed and Sheppard stood up. Just like the scene with Wolverine in the X-men movie he could never remember the name of.

But it was Sheppard calling Rodney's name that finally woke him from his slumber. As Rodney sat up, blinking hard, and discreetly wiping drool off his chin, he realized it hadn't been Sheppard calling him, but O'Neill.

The General was sitting at the tiny side table in the corner, a tray of food in front of him. "About time you woke up, McKay," O'Neill drawled.

"Sheppard!" Rodney scrambled to his feet in a panic.

"He's fine. Sit down and eat then you can go see him." O'Neill gestured to the plate of food.

Rodney was hungry, in fact his stomach picked that moment to growl loudly. But having to pee won out first. After a mad dash to the bathroom, Rodney sat down at the table, glancing at his wrist only to remember he didn't wear a watch. "What time is it?"

O'Neill didn't glance at his own watch before replying. "Seven."

"What?" Rodney had been about to shove a forkful of potatoes in his mouth, leading him to believe he was about to ingest supper. Which meant it was seven pm. Which meant he had slept almost eight hours. "Oh my god!" He dropped the fork with a clatter and jumped to his feet. "Why didn't you wake me? Sheppard!" He was almost to the door when a hand gripped his arm and hauled him back around.

"Sheppard is fine," O'Neill stated. "I spoke to Dr. Lam and he's still sleeping. She tells me it's a good sleep."

Rodney couldn't argue with the fact that Sheppard needed it. His sleep had been all too restless and fractured since he had fallen ill. Which wasn't even the correct terminology really. Which was a stupid thought to be having right now so Rodney shook it away even as he allowed O'Neill to shove him back over to the table.

O'Neill sat down, picked up Rodney's fork and held it out. "Eat then you can see Sheppard."

So Rodney started shoveling and he cleaned his plate in five minutes, forcing everything to stay down by draining his glass of soda. He had missed soda. For some reason, even though the _Daedalus_ brought cases of the stuff during every run, it just didn't taste the same on Atlantis. Which was something he intended to figure out why when he managed to find a spare moment to ponder it. There had to be a scientific reason for it.

"Ready?"

"What?" Rodney was jolted out of his reverie, to find O'Neill smirking at him. "Oh, yes. I'm ready."

O'Neill stood up. "Sure you don't want to shower first?"

Rodney had to force himself not to sniff his pits. He shot the General a disdainful sneer. "Why? Do I stink?"

"Not if you're down wind," O'Neill quipped, before striding out of the room.

"Why me?" Rodney bemoaned, even as he followed. He gave his pits a sniff and even though he wasn't morning fresh, he didn't reek so he was good to go. He followed O'Neill down the now all too familiar hallway and pushed past him as they reached Sheppard's room. Rodney didn't even glance at the window, he just went to the door, pushed it open, then froze and stared.

Standing next to Sheppard's bed, taking the Colonel's pulse, was a sight for sore eyes. Beckett. "What are you doing here?" Rodney offered in greeting, his tone sharp enough to make himself wince.

But Carson didn't seem insulted. He simply turned to face him, a warm smile on his face. But it faded a bit before he replied. "I came here to look after the Colonel, Rodney. Hope you don't mind."

"I guess that's all right," Rodney replied, keeping his tone cool. He didn't want Carson to get a big head by thinking he was all that important. But, internally, Rodney was happy and relieved. Now he could relax and focus his attention on helping Hermiod figure out what was wrong with Sheppard so they could fix him. "When did you get here?"

"About two hours ago." Carson turned back to Sheppard for a moment, then he stepped away from the bed, drawing Rodney with him. "I've been examining the Colonel and Dr. Lam did what she could to fill me in. Seeing his bruises in person is worse." Carson's voice took on an edge of pure anger as he spoke.

Rodney understood that anger. "Yeah. I wish you'd brought Ronon with you so he could kick Purdie's ass."

Carson grinned at that. "Well, it just so happens that I did bring him. And Teyla too."

"Really?" Elizabeth allowed that?" Rodney was both pleased and surprised. Mostly pleased. 

"She thought it was best for Colonel Sheppard," Carson stated.

Rodney agreed with her. "So, where are they?" He didn't have to scan the room to know they weren't there. Ronon's presence was larger than life at all times.

Carson shrugged. "O'Neill sent them on a tour of the base. He thought it might be too overwhelming for the Colonel if he woke up to see more than one new face."

"But you guys are all old faces!" Rodney protested, realizing as he said it how ridiculous it sounded, even though it was true.

"I know." Carson patted his shoulder. "But I agree with the General. It might be too much for him at once. We'll see how he reacts to me first."

Rodney could see the logic in that. He supposed. He still felt the need to argue the point of having Ronon and Teyla around Sheppard, if only to keep him protected, when Sheppard suddenly stirred.

"Azur..." he whispered, and he sounded panicked.

"I'm here." Rodney shouldered Carson out of the way so he could be in Sheppard's line of sight. Hazel-green eyes focused on him intently, then a hand reached out for him. An empty hand. Rodney's eyes shifted to Sheppard's other hand, but it was empty too. "The disc!" he exclaimed.

Carson gave him a puzzled look. "What disc?"

Rodney made hand gestures to signify the shape of the object, but he knew it wouldn't mean anything to Carson. So he started hunting for it. It wasn't on the bedside table, so he got ready to bellow for a nurse when he spotted a glint of silver on the floor. Dropping to his knees, Rodney spied the disc and snatched it up, nearly bumping into Carson when he tried to stand, as the doctor was bent over trying to see what he was doing. "Back off!" Rodney snapped, making it all the way up to his feet and hurriedly shoving the disc into Sheppard's right hand. He saw the Colonel relax again, a slight smile appearing on his face.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Rodney felt his own muscles relaxing, all the more so when Sheppard whispered his name before falling back asleep. At least, Rodney was pretty sure it was his name Sheppard whispered.

Apparently, Carson thought so too. "He knows you," he said to Rodney.

"He does." Rodney felt almost proud of that fact, even though he wasn't sure why. He was about to explain about the earlier incident before Sheppard had collapsed, but his radio beeped. To Rodney's surprise it was Hermiod, asking him to join him in the control room. "You have something for me?" Rodney queried.

"I have been in contact with Dr. Zelenka," Hermiod replied. "Between us we may have discovered something useful."

Which was more than enough to get Rodney's hopes up. "Call me if Sheppard needs me," he said to Carson, then he booked out the door. Maybe they were all finally getting a break.

When Rodney was gone, Carson turned his attention back to Sheppard. The Colonel seemed to be asleep now, rather than unconscious, and more at peace than before. Smiling to himself, Carson fussed with the blankets, pretty much tucking them in around the Colonel's slim form, before grabbing a chair and settling himself for an all too familiar vigil over Sheppard.

OoO

Jack had left McKay with Beckett, after staying just long enough to see McKay's reaction. It had been good to see Rodney's happiness at Dr. Beckett's presence. Leaving them to reunite, he made his way to the messhall where Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex were waiting for him. Jack had foisted them off on one of his Sergeants when they'd first arrived, but now he figured it was time to face them.

Not surprisingly, the big guy was prowling the area, and when Jack arrived he practically growled at him. Jack put a smile on and waved at Dex, then turned to Teyla to ask, "He is potty trained, right?"

Teyla did not look amused. She locked eyes with Jack and stated, "We believe Colonel Sheppard should return to Atlantis."

"Why don't we wait and see what happens now that Dr. Beckett is here to take care of the Colonel?" Jack countered, but he could see she wasn't convinced. Then, suddenly, Ronon was looming over him.

"You hurt him!" The Satedan left no doubt to the fact that he was making an accusation.

Jack didn't deny it. He knew Dex didn't mean him, personally. "That was unfortunate," he allowed. "And I apologize. It's not going to happen again."

Ronon bared his teeth. "Wouldn't have happened at all on Atlantis. I wouldn't have let it."

"I believe that," Jack conceded. He put his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "So, have you eaten yet? Chow is pretty good today. Lasagna." He could see Ronon brighten a bit. Hah, hooked him with Earth food. Worked every time.

"I could eat," Ronon stated.

Teyla looked uncertain, but finally nodded. "I am hungry," she replied. "Then I would like to see Colonel Sheppard." Ronon made a noise and Teyla looked over at him before amending, "We would like to see him."

Jack smiled. "I'll see what I can do." With that he led them over to the where the plates were stacked. He hoped Ronon was more amenable after his belly was full. Otherwise it was going to be a very long night.

OoO

Purdie paced in his lab. Kel was watching him, big eyes never blinking.

"This is bad!" Purdie hissed. He was angry and scared and not trying to hide it. "We can't get near Sheppard now. Not with Lam and that Doctor from Atlantis here. And did you see that hulk that came with him? The woman is pretty though."

"You must focus," Kel replied, his eyes still following Purdie's every movement. "From the nurse you blackmailed into giving us information on Sheppard, he has become more alert. He recognized Dr. McKay. That would suggest that he may very well be capable of handling this after all. So we must figure out a way to run our tests. We must learn exactly what Sheppard knows and what he is capable of."

Purdie snorted and stopped pacing to glare at Kel. "You figure out a way to get close to him then? Cause I'm fresh out of ideas short of knocking out everyone on the entire base, and I think they'd notice that in the long run."

Kel cocked his head in a quizzical manner then said," I will figure out a way." He then moved to a special computer set up in the corner and began tapping keys.

Heaving a sigh, Purdie watched him. It wasn't like he had anything else to do.

OoO

John felt the warm darkness seeping away from him. He whimpered and tried to draw it back but it stealthily retreated from him. In its place were the voices. Most of the time they were soft sounds and musical hums in his head, but there was a voice that was persistent and staccato and a touch on his shoulder that didn't frighten him as much as he thought it should. So he opened his eyes, blinking away the last of the shadows, and found himself staring at a familiar face. "Dasora," he whispered.

Carson stared at Sheppard, pleased that he was finally awake, but confused by what he'd just said.

Dr. Lam was on the other side of the bed, having brought Carson a cup of coffee a few minutes ago. "He said doctor," she explained.

"You know Ancient?" Carson couldn't hide his surprise.

"Daniel taught me that word," she replied.

John listened to them, realizing that their sounds were familiar. "Lantia," he breathed, clutching the disc against his chest. "Methora dae priseem."

"What is he saying?" Carson looked at Lam who shook her head.

John felt like weeping, whispering the words again. Begging them to take him home.

**THE END...of part 10**


	11. Chapter 11

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 11**

Rodney strode purposefully into the room. "Hermiod, what have we got?" He tried not to let his hope get ahead of him, but they had waited so long on a break, any kind of a break, that he found himself ready to do just about anything for some good news. "Please tell me you guys have come up with something positive."

Hermiod turned his head to the scientist. "I believe that we have indeed discovered something that may help Colonel Sheppard. Dr. Zelenka contacted me with some information he found in the Atlantis database."

Rodney motioned madly with his hand. "Well, spit it out, what did you find?"

Hermiod seemed to narrow his eyes slightly before looking back down at the screen in front of him. "Dr. Zelenka has found a program that he believes can be modified to help the Colonel. It was originally intended to be used with Ancients having to take in a large amount of information through a direct link with Atlantis. Certain scientists and military personnel were often required to take in more information than what the brain was normally capable of in such a short period. This program was used to enable the individual to safely store the information in a way it could be accessed."

Rodney's eyes widened. "Yes, yes, that does sound hopeful. But Sheppard has already had the information downloaded. Can it be used to remove it?"

Hermiod looked back up at McKay. "No, it cannot. But Dr. Zelenka and I believe it can be modified to help sort the information and separate it from the memories of the Colonel's that it has become intertwined with. In that way, Colonel Sheppard could function normally and also have access to the new information in his brain."

Rodney's mouth gaped for a second, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Well, that's great. What are we waiting for? Let's get Sheppard back to Atlantis and get started." 

"It is not that simple. It will take Dr. Zelenka and I a minimum of two days to make the adjustments to the program. I am afraid even then it will be a slow process, taking many sessions to complete. If it is rushed, the Colonel's mind could be permanently damaged. And there is no guarantee this will work."

Rodney nodded, his elation of before dissipating as he realized the uncertain and dangerous nature of Sheppard's "cure". "Yeah, okay. At least he has a chance now. That's a heck of lot more than he had before."

"There is something else of interest. I have been scanning the readings from the _Daedalus_ as requested and I have found something. In reviewing the records of when Colonel Sheppard was beamed on or off the ship, I found an odd energy reading that extends back almost one and a half years. It began shortly after the _Daedalus_ began making trips to Atlantis and is only associated with the Colonel's movements."

Rodney frowned and tilted his head slightly. "How do you know that?"

Hermiod blinked slowly and almost seemed to sigh. "Each time someone is beamed using the ship's technology, they leave a trace signature that can be identified. The energy anomaly only appears when Colonel Sheppard is beamed on or off the ship, but once initiated, it shows up every time."

Rodney's eyes drifted down. "Holy crap, that's got to be it," he muttered.

"Holy crap indeed," agreed Hermiod in his usual deadpan.

"That's it. He didn't get this stuff from one big download, it came from a bunch of smaller downloads, when he was being beamed on and off the ship. Is that possible?"

Hermiod gave a small nod. "I believe the technology could be preprogrammed to recognize the Colonel's signature and do such a thing. I will need to investigate further in order to confirm that this is indeed what happened."

Rodney nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, investigate further. I need to talk to Zelenka and find out when this program will be ready for Sheppard so I can make arrangement to get him back through the gate." Rodney turned to leave, throwing a wave over his shoulder. "Good work, Hermiod."

Hermiod watched as McKay walked out the door. "Indeed."

oOo

"Radek, I just talked to Hermiod and he told me what you two have come up with. Is this really going to work?" Rodney studied the scientist on the screen, no longer phased by the fact that the man was in a distant galaxy.

"We cannot know for sure until we try, but I think it will work or I would not suggest it."

Rodney nodded. "Fair enough. Hermiod said it would take a minimum of two days to get it ready."

"That is correct. I have spoken to Dr. Weir and she suggested you keep the Colonel there until then. It will then take another day beyond that to get everything ready. That day could be used to acclimate Colonel Sheppard to being back in Atlantis."

Rodney sighed, looking disappointed. "To tell you the truth, I'm ready to bring him back right now. This place makes me nervous."

"We miss you too, Rodney."

"I didn't say I missed you. I just . . . you can't trust anyone here, that's all. It's not . . . home."

"I understand. Dr. Weir has talked to General O'Neill and is making arrangements through him for your return. It is better, now that your team and Dr. Beckett is there, no?"

"Yes, I have to admit, I was glad to see Beckett, just don't let him know that. I haven't actually seen Ronon and Teyla yet. Something about not overwhelming Sheppard. Speaking of the man who likes to cause trouble, I better get back down there. And Radek . . . you did . . . okay. I mean . . . well, what I'm trying to say is . . . "

"You're welcome Rodney," Zelenka said softly.

Rodney just nodded. "Yeah. Uh, I'll have Carson contact you tomorrow for more details. Until then." Rodney watched Zelenka's grin fade away with the picture.

oOo

Carson sat down, relief flowing through him now that John was finally asleep again. He was still clutching the disc to his chest, twitching and mumbling in his sleep. Carson could still hear bits and pieces of the phrase John kept repeating, even now in his sleep. He remembered the John Sheppard that had held off Genii forces by himself for hours during the storm, the John Sheppard that had flown an armed jumper into the belly of a Hive ship, the John Sheppard that had escaped Hive ships twice, rescuing teammates both times. It was heartbreaking to observe what he had become and to know that he might stay this way forever. Sometimes life seemed so unfair.

The door opened and Rodney came in, heading straight for John. "How is he?"

Carson stood and looked down at his sleeping patient. "He's all right. He knew me, I think. He called me doctor, well, in Ancient."

Rodney's eyes widened as he looked at Beckett.

"Well, that's what Dr. Lam told me anyway," Carson said, flushing. "Then he kept repeating some phrase over and over, but I have no idea what it was. He finally stopped a few minutes ago."

Rodney nodded. "Good news. Zelenka found some program on Atlantis he thinks could help the Colonel, but it won't be ready for about two days. Hermiod said it will have to be done in small increments to keep from making the problem worse, and of course, there's no guarantee it will work. But at least he has a chance now."

"That is good news, Rodney."

Sheppard began to stir, moving his legs around under the covers and muttering to himself as he clutched the disc. "Lantea . . . Lantea . . . methora dae priseem." His eyes flashed open. "Lantea."

"That was it, what he was saying earlier."

Rodney gripped John's arm, making eye contact with his friend. "He wants to go home."

John struggled to sit up. "Azur . . . Rodney . . . Dasora . . . Car . . . Carson." He furrowed his brow and rubbed the side of his head with his knuckles, whimpering softly. "Lantea . . . Lantea . . . "

Rodney leaned forward and put his face close to John's. "John. It's Rodney. Rodney. We're going to take you home. Lantea. We'll take you to Lantea."

John had frozen, staring at Rodney, almost mesmerized by his face or his voice or both. "Lantea," he whispered.

Rodney smiled. "Lantea," he said firmly.

John clutched the disc to his chest with his left hand and continued to rub the side of his head with his right hand. He relaxed back into the pillow and closed his eyes. "Lantea."

The door opened suddenly and Ronon's voice boomed in from the hall. "I want to see Sheppard and I'm seeing him now."

John jerked at the sound, quickly scrambling out of bed even as Rodney and Carson tried to get a hold on him. Scurrying to the corner, he crouched down and folded himself into as small a space as he could. He buried his face against his knees and folding his right arm over his head protectively, still clutching the disc to his chest with the other hand.

Rodney threw up his arms in frustration as Ronon and Teyla entered the room, an angry guard behind them. "Congratulations, Conan, you just scared the crap out of him. Now we've got to pry him out of the corner again."

Ronon and Teyla stood frozen to their spot, watching the Colonel hunker down in the corner, his body visibly trembling. Teyla slowly walked over to crouch in front of Sheppard. She talked gently, without touching him at first.

"John, it is Teyla. Do you remember me?"

John responded by pressing his face down and whimpering. Teyla inched forward as the others watched breathlessly.

"John, it is Teyla. We are friends, are we not? I remember the things you have told me. You like Ferris wheels and things that go fast. You like to fly."

John stilled and then lifted his head a little, dark eyes peering at her over his knees. "Avolare . . . Lantea avolare. Amare avolare."

"He said he loves Atlantis and he loves flying," said Rodney, his voice quiet so as not to startle Sheppard. "Keep talking to him."

"I've missed you John. We have all missed you. Do you remember me? We are friends and I want to help you." Teyla's voice was soft and melodic, and John watched her closely.

John slowly lowered his arm from the top of his head, edging it forward as if afraid. He finally touched the side of Teyla's face, stroking it gently. "Tey . . . Teyla."

A grin spread across her face as her eyes misted. "Yes, John, it's Teyla. We've come to help you." She now reached out and touched his arm, barely putting enough pressure to be felt. When he didn't flinch away, she crept forward a little more until she could put her arm around him, talking softly to him the entire time. Eventually she had his head resting on her shoulder as she cradled him next to her chest. She stroked his back as he trembled, pressing his hand to his head and whimpering softly.

"I think it makes his head hurt to remember things," explained Rodney. "It seems when he had a lucid moment, it's usually followed by pain."

Teyla nodded and held John tighter as Carson came forward to put a blanket over John's thin, trembling form. "We should get him back in bed in a few minutes, lass, but he can stay put with you for a short bit," said Carson.

Teyla nodded. "We are here for you John and we will not leave you again." She leaned the side of her face against the top of his head. "We are here, John."

John lifted his head from her shoulder and looked across the room, his glassy eyes trying to focus. "Ronon?"

Ronon took a deep breath and then went slowly over to sit down by Teyla. "I'm here Sheppard. Sorry I startled you."

John looked at him in confusion for a few seconds before finally seeming to recognize the former runner. "Ronon," he stammered out. John smiled briefly before lowering his head into his hands and moaning in pain. He dropped the disc as he brought both hands up to rub his head and then firmly grasped a handful of hair and tightened his grip. His whole body tensed and shuddered before going limp. Teyla and Ronon instinctively reached out to keep him from falling over.

Teyla looked up, fear filling her face. "Carson?"

The doctor stepped forward to feel for Sheppard's pulse. He let out a deep breath as he pulled his hand away. "He's just asleep . . . or maybe unconscious. Let's get him back on the bed. I think this was too much excitement for him."

Ronon picked the Colonel up and carried him back to the bed. Carson immediately began arranging the covers over his patient. "Rodney, why don't you tell Ronon and Teyla about Radek's discovery while I check the Colonel."

Rodney kept staring down at Sheppard for several seconds before finally turning to talk to the two new arrivals to the Milky Way Galaxy.

oOo

Familiar faces and familiar voices. He knew them. John pushed the swirling images aside to concentrate. He needed to go home. He wanted to go home with every fiber of his being. Fear filled him constantly, fear and pain.

Rodney. Rodney was talking to him. He wanted to listen and understand but the flashing images and words kept getting in the way. Focusing on the words from the familiar face, he felt hope for the first time in a while. Were they going home? He couldn't be sure, everything was so confused.

Fear again, making him want to hide. He scrambled in a search for safety, trembling, afraid. But then another familiar voice, one he hadn't heard for a while. He looked up into her face, concentrating on pushing the chaos back. Teyla. Teyla was here with him. And Ronon was here as well. His team was here and he felt safe again. And then the pictures and screams and words came back full fold, making the pain arc up into the highest levels yet. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't make his voice work, so he gave in to the encroaching darkness and prayed it would bring relief.

oOo

Purdie raced into the lab, slamming the door behind him.

"Is that necessary?" asked Kel, eyeing him warily.

"I think it may be time to cut our losses and run. I just found out a few things you might be interested in. First of all, they may have found a way to fix Sheppard in Atlantis. Some program they think can shuffle all that information we downloaded around in his brain so that he can actually use it. Which might be exciting except for the fact that Hermiod is onto us using the beaming technology to get that stuff in Sheppard's head in the first place. He hasn't figured all of it out yet, but it's just a matter of time. And when he does, they'll start looking at who had access to the information and who was working on the _Daedalus_ systems about that time and put two and two together. And in this case, two plus two equals us."

Kel just stared at him for a moment with his large, dark eyes. "You panic too easily. Humans are much too emotional. It's a wonder you ever accomplish anything between your outbursts of panic. We can still make this work. As I see it, we have several options."

Purdie took a deep breath and sat down. "Okay, I'm calm, not panicking. One option is grabbing Sheppard and running so we can do our own experiments on descrambling his brain. What are the others?"

"It will be several days until they are able to trace anything back to us. We can use this time to gather information from our sources about Sheppard and this program they have found. We can then either use that to start again with another subject or take Sheppard with us. I have not given up the possibility of running our own tests before they take him back to Atlantis, but it will be difficult in light of the protection he is under. Still, there may be a way."

Purdie narrowed his eyes and grinned at the alien. "You know, I like the way you think. What do you have in mind? And if it happens to make everyone's precious colonel uncomfortable, then all the better. That man is getting on my last nerve."

Kel nodded and almost seemed to smile. "Let me explain our options in more detail. I am certain we can make one of them work to our satisfaction."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 12**

_He could feel Atlantis sinking. He had to save her. He ran through the darkened corridors only to run into a solid figure. He stumbled back then gasped to see that it was Kolya who stood before him._

_"This city will be mine, Sheppard!" Kolya stated._

_John shook his head at him. "No! I'll kill you!" But he didn't have a gun. ___

_Kolya laughed, almost falling over in his mirth. _

_John ran past him, only to skid to a halt when a Wraith dropped down from above. John knew him. "Steve," he whispered, recoiling as the Wraith approached._

_Steve was smiling, dark fangs glistening. "I've come to take you with me, Sheppard," he drawled. "To take you away from here."_

_"NO!" John was both terrified and angry. He couldn't leave Atlantis. He couldn't let Steve take him away. He wanted to shove Steve away from him, but when he lunged forward, the Wraith vanished and John felt himself falling. He fell into a shadowy darkness, and he was alone and the voices were back, too loud, making his head hurt. _

"Lantea," he whispered, over and over again. "Lantea...Lantea...Lantea..."

"Easy, Colonel." Carson had been dozing in a nearby chair, but when Sheppard started shifting around and whispering, he'd gotten up to try and calm him. But he seemed to have the opposite effect.

Sheppard pushed Carson aside, slipping out of bed, yanking out the IV before Carson could catch him. He moved to the far corner of the room, one hand pressed to the wall, the other clutching the disk. He kept whispering, "Lantea."

Carson sighed as he watched Sheppard. The man was jittery, even twitching a bit as he paced in a frenetic half circle, the fingertips of his free hand always touching one wall. Carson was debating whether to attempt to get him back to bed when the Colonel suddenly stuffed himself into the corner and started rocking. One hand was pressed to his temple.

Moving to Sheppard's side, Carson knelt down and gently reached for the Colonel's free hand. Blood was dripping down it from where he'd tugged out the IV. Carefully, Carson wiped it, taking note of the heat of Sheppard's skin.

"How is he?" It was Teyla who asked. She had awakened when Sheppard got up and had watched from her chair, until now. Now she knelt down beside Carson, her eyes locked on Sheppard's pale face. She could not hide her worry.

"He has a fever," Carson stated. He tended to Sheppard's hand, smoothing a Band-Aid into place, then letting the Colonel tug his hand back before turning to face Teyla. "We really need to get him home," he said firmly. "I think being on Atlantis might help."

Teyla nodded. "I agree. It was wrong to send him here in the first place."

Carson sighed, rubbing at his eyes to clear away the grit of slumber. "Hind sight is 20/20, lass," he conceded, not bothering to explain the expression. He figured Teyla would get the gist of it. Rising slowly to his feet, Carson stretched out a few kinks then said, "I'm going to go talk to General O'Neill. I want Sheppard back in Atlantis as soon as possible."

"But it is early," Teyla cautioned, grabbing Carson by the arm.

"Oh, bloody..." Carson broke off as he glanced at his watch. Two am. He should wait a few hours. But then he looked back at Sheppard, still rocking in the corner, and his mind was made up. "This is an emergency!" Carson declared. "The General can sleep later." With that he headed for the door, determination emanating from him in waves.

OoO

Rodney had been dreaming about cupcakes. Real, chocolate, cupcakes like the ones they had in the messhall tonight, when a heavy hand on his shoulder, shook him awake. He blinked his eyes open, saw a huge figure looming over him and panicked.

A heavy hand clamped over his mouth before his scream could erupt.

"It's me!" Ronon hissed.

Shoving Ronon's hand off his face, Rodney glared at him. It was bad enough he hated being here instead of in Atlantis. Worse that Sheppard was a mess and Rodney felt guilty about it, even though it wasn't his fault. But it was the last straw when Ronon, his supposed team mate, went around scaring the shit out of him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Rodney snarled at him. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Ronon shrugged. "You'd be dead already if I wanted that," he pointed out.

"Right." Rodney shuddered a bit at how true that was. He would have been dead without even waking up, had Ronon wanted to kill him. "Why are you here?" Rodney continued, as he sat up and tried to straighten out the covers that had twisted around his legs in his sleep. Apparently he'd been pretty restless.

"Something's up," Ronon said, ever succinct.

Glancing at the clock on the bed table, Rodney sighed. It was almost 2 am. "Yes, me," he said, pointedly. "Thanks to you." He wondered if Ronon ever slept properly. The Satedan had been observed roaming around Atlantis at all hours of the night and day since coming to live there.

Ronon grabbed the blankets Rodney was fussing with and tossed them off the bed. "Get up."

"Why?" Rodney wasn't doing anything without a good reason.

"I've been checking things out," Ronon rumbled. "I found that doctor you don't like."

That woke Rodney up a bit. "Purdie?"

Ronon nodded. "Yeah. With one of those naked creatures."

"Asgard," Rodney supplied. "And?" He was starting to wake up now, and his stomach was twisting into knots. He knew he wasn't going to like whatever Ronon told him.

"Purdie called the creature, Kel, and they were talking about Sheppard. I couldn't hear them clearly, but they mentioned Sheppard's name several times." Ronon looked grim as he stared down at Rodney. "I don't like that."

Rodney didn't like it either. He stood up and grabbed his pants. "I think Purdie had something to do with Sheppard being in his present condition."

Ronon cracked his knuckles. "Want me to find out?"

"Tempting," Rodney conceded, now reaching for a long-sleeved shirt. It was cold in the room, after the warmth of the covers. "But no. Not like that, anyway." Although if Ronon wanted to beat the shit out of Purdie later, Rodney would be all for. If Purdie was the one who had caused Sheppard to suffer like this, then Rodney wanted him punished. But that was for another time. Right now he needed to focus on the present. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. "Keep tabs on them for now," he requested. "Keep Sheppard safe. That's the most important thing."

"Teyla's with Sheppard," Ronon replied. "He's safe."

Relief washed over Rodney. He knew Teyla would never let anyone hurt Sheppard. "Good." He headed for the door.

Ronon trailed after him. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to O'Neill. I want to take Sheppard back to Atlantis ASAP." Rodney locked eyes with Ronon. "We never should have brought him here."

"You were trying to help him," Ronon reminded him.

It didn't assuage Rodney's guilt. Even though bringing him here hadn't been his idea. "Yeah," he whispered. "I know." He was, however, going to do everything in his power to help Sheppard now. "Go skulk in the shadows," he ordered Ronon. "Let me know if they do anything sneaky."

Ronon grinned. "I'll let you know," he confirmed, then he slipped out the door.

A moment later, Rodney followed him.

OoO

Muttering to himself all the way down the corridor, Rodney wasn't paying attention to outside forces, so he ended up colliding with a solid form. He stumbled, caught himself by grabbing the other person's arm, and was stunned to recognize Beckett. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, not keeping his voice down. And here being outside O'Neill's door.

"I could ask the same about you, Rodney," Carson countered, rubbing as his ribcage where Rodney's elbow had connected.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking care of Sheppard?" Rodney felt his stomach drop. "He's okay, isn't he? Is he worse? Is he dying?" Panic set in and Rodney started babbling.

Until Carson cut him off by grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "First off, Teyla's with him. He's not dying, but he is feverish and agitated and I'm here because I want to ask General O'Neill if we can take the Colonel home." Releasing his grip on Rodney, Carson shook his head. "He just rocks in the corner whispering Lantea over and over again. It's breaking my heart. He needs to go home, Rodney. Right now."

The irony of this moment was not lost on Rodney, but all he did was nod. "That's why I'm here. We need to get back. Something bad is going to happen if we stay. I can feel it."

Sudden footsteps made Rodney break off, and he pressed himself against the wall as someone turned the corner. It was a pretty blond woman with a clipboard in one hand. She smiled at Rodney and Carson before continuing on her way. Rodney waited until she was out of sight before turning to O'Neill's door. As one, he and Carson raised one fist with the intent of pounding on the door, only it popped open and a fully dressed General stood before them.

Rodney and Carson looked at each other, both surprised.

O'Neill looked tired, but he grinned at them. "Let's see about getting you all back to Atlantis. But I'm going with you." With that he stepped out into the corridor, closed the door behind him with a click, then strode off.

Rodney ran to catch him, hearing Carson a footstep behind him. They were finally going home.

OoO

Purdie felt a full-fledged panic attack coming on. He headed for Kel's lab, shoes untied, clothes rumbled and eyes bleary. Martha had stopped by his room to tell him what she had overheard Dr. McKay and the Scottish doctor talking about taking Sheppard home to Atlantis. They had run out of time.

Stumbling into the lab, Purdie gazed about, searching for the Asgard. For a moment he thought he was alone, but then Kel appeared before him.

"You look troubled," Kel said quietly.

"They're taking Sheppard back to Atlantis!" Purdie blurted out. "They're waking up O'Neill to do it right now!"

Kel was silent for a long moment, no expression on his face. Not that there ever was much of one anyway. "They cannot just send him through right this minute," he stated. "We still have some time."

Purdie had been pacing, but now he stopped and glared at the tiny Asgard. "And do what?" he demanded. "They've already figured out something was done to Sheppard while beaming to and from the _Daedalus_. It won't be long before they figure out it was us. We have to leave. We have to leave now." He turned to run out, but cool digits gripped his wrist. Kel was tiny but strong. He held Purdie in place. "We have to go," Purdie hissed, hearing the desperation in his voice.

"You must calm down and be reasonable," Kel countered, his grip tightening painfully. "We will do what needs to be done." With something mimicking a smile on his face, Kel drew Purdie further into the lab, taking him into the back.

Purdie felt as if he were taking the final walk to the electric chair.

OoO

Elizabeth came awake with a start. Feeling foggy, she blinked hard and reached for the lights. Nothing happened. Then she realized it was cold in the room and she tugged the blanket up around her shoulders, trying not to shiver. A glance at her watch showed her it was about 2am.

Heaving a sigh, Elizabeth reached out for her radio when it beeped and made her jump. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed it and tucked it in her ear. "Weir here."

"I have bad news," Zelenka replied.

"Of course you do," Elizabeth replied. No one ever called to give her good news. Or so it seemed. "What's up?"

There was a moment of silence then Zelenka blurted out, "Atlantis is experiencing fluctuations. Mostly power fluctuations. It is as if she is very moody."

Elizabeth tugged the blankets closer around her. "My room is freezing," she stated. "Do we know what's causing the fluctuations, and can you fix them?"

"I am trying to fix," Zelenka replied. "As for what is causing them, I have theory only."

"Let's hear it," Elizabeth prompted. Zelenka was a brilliant scientist and he had done as much as anyone in keeping Atlantis running smoothly, so she knew whatever he had to say would be important.

Zelenka cleared his throat, made a noise like he was swallowing hard, then said, "If I did not know better, I would say that Atlantis misses Colonel Sheppard."

For some reason, Elizabeth was not the least bit surprised to hear that. Letting a soft sigh escape she said, "Do what you can. Weir out." The moment she was alone again she whispered, "I miss him too."

OoO

He tried to tuck himself deeper into the corner, but the walls were hard and cold at his back. Ungiving. He felt cold with flashes of heat, and his head hurt because the voices were too loud again. He wanted to go home. Lantea was calling to him. She was hurting and it hurt him in turn. He could help her, but they wouldn't let him. It made him angry on her behalf.

He watched the woman, the pretty one with the dark skin who sang to him earlier. He knew her name but it hurt too much to remember right now. She had been sitting on the floor, watching him, talking to him at times. The sound of her voice added to the cacophony in his head, added to the pain so he tried to tune her out. But she fell silent as she stood up and slipped into the other room. The tiny room.

The moment the door closed behind her, he got to his feet. He had to go home. He stumbled over to the other door, raising his fists and pounding on it. Demanding to be released. "Ethero mala fortaeau eil bast!" he screamed.

He was relieved when the door opened. He pushed past the man blocking his way, shoving him hard enough to knock him down, then he ran, the floor cool under his feet, the way dark and filled with shadows. But he knew the way home.

OoO

Teyla heard John shouting, heard a banging and she ran out of the bathroom in time to see the guard open the door and John run out. She raced over to the guard, checking on his condition. He was startled but okay. Teyla grabbed his radio and called for help. She wished she had her ear piece so she could call Ronon directly, but this would have to do.

"Colonel Sheppard has escaped his room!" Teyla broadcast. Then she clicked off and raced down the corridor, hoping she found Sheppard before anyone else did.

**THE END...of part 12**


	13. Chapter 13

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 13**

Voices and faces swirling chaotically in his head, John ran toward Lantea, or at least the way he thought would get him there. He knew very little at this point, but he knew he needed to be back with her, under her watchful eye. Determination filled him like it hadn't in a long time. But then it felt like he'd been struck by lightning and his body went rigid, hanging for a second before dropping limply to the floor. His mind didn't really process the smell of ozone or the uncontrolled muscle twitches just before he lost consciousness.

oOo

Purdie watched Sheppard drop to the floor just seconds after hitting him with the zat gun. He couldn't believe his blind luck at being the first one to find the prodigal colonel. He looked around quickly to make sure he was alone and then hooked his hands under Sheppard's arms, dragging him down the hallway. One turn later, he went a few feet further to the door being held open by Kel. As soon as the unconscious Colonel was clear of the door, the Asgard closed and locked it.

"I see you were able to find Colonel Sheppard before the security forces."

Purdie panted from the exertion and excitement of his kidnapping spree. "Yeah, got lucky this time out. It's about time something went our way."

"When you have recovered, place him on the exam table and we can run the sequence we discussed earlier. It should give us the needed information."

Purdie nodded, beginning to grin. "And then we just dump him somewhere for them to find. It's not like he can tell them what happened. His leaning heavily on the loony side lately has its advantages."

"Yes, so it would seem. I will get the equipment ready. We should have time to complete our task while they are searching for the Colonel." Kel walked back to the array of equipment at the head of an exam table in the center of the room.

Purdie decided he'd recovered enough and bent over, dragging Sheppard until he was lying next to the table. He then took the next several minutes to get Sheppard up and onto the table, grunting and moaning the whole time. "It wouldn't hurt to have some help, you know," he complained when he was finally finished.

Kel just looked at him with his big dark eyes. "What would you suggest I do? I am not exactly built for heavy lifting. Our bodies are more designed to house our superior intellect."

Purdie snorted. "Oh, and he's modest, too," he mumbled to himself.

Kel ignored him as he checked the controls of the machine. "I would suggest you restrain him. He will need to be awake for the procedure and I doubt he will lie still."

Purdie nodded. "My pleasure." He grabbed some restraints from a drawer and proceeded to secure Sheppard's wrists and ankles to the table, leaving very little slack for movement. "That should hold him," he muttered to himself when he was finished. Purdie then took some wires slung over a hook on the back of the machine and began attaching them to the Colonel's head, pressing the adhesive pads to his skin. One pair was secured to his temples, one pair to his forehead, and the third pair just behind his ears. "Ready."

"I am ready also. See if you can wake the Colonel."

Purdie nodded and leaned over the unconscious form, tapping him lightly on the cheek. "Time to wake up Sheppard." When the man did not stir, Puridie slapped him harder, leaving a red handprint on the Colonel's face. "Sheppard, wake up!" he said loudly.

John mumbled and began to shift around. When he pulled on the restraints and had his movement restricted, his eyes flashed open. "No . . . no . . . Lantea," he cried, now beginning to struggle hard against the tight bindings.

"Okay, he's awake now, and very unhappy," said Purdie. When John shouted, even louder than before, Purdie began to look worried. "We need to keep him quiet."

Kell gave a small nod. "I agree, but we cannot sedate him"

Purdie grinned as he shifted his gaze around the room. 'I can fix this," he said as he saw what he needed. Moving quickly across the room, he grabbed a light sheet and cut a strip off one end. He then returned and folded it over in the middle, shoving it in Sheppard's mouth and tying the gag behind his head, even as the pilot tried to pull away. "There, that should shut you up."

"Crude, but effective," commented Kel. "We are now ready. You will need to monitor Sheppard so you can warn me of any problems. He will feel a certain amount of discomfort." Kel reached out and turned a knob over to the right.

Sheppard immediately tensed, closing his eyes tightly as he grunted His body stiffened with his back arched slightly off the table.

"He is resisting," said Kel a few minutes later and then twisted the knob further to the right.

oOo

Rodney came around the corner so fast, he almost ran into Ronon. He yelped as he came to an abrupt stop. "Ahh, Ronon! Anyone the size of a small mountain needs warning lights and alarms."

Ronon creased his brow as he looked down at the scientist. "Who are you calling small?"

"See, obviously you missed the part about being a mountain. Believe me, that makes a huge difference. Any sign of Sheppard?"

"Not yet. I'm heading back the other way. He isn't in this section."

Rodney's jaw moved up and down a time or two as he pointed to some of the doors along the hallway. "Did you check in these rooms? He could be here somewhere."

"Not here, McKay," Ronon called as he continued around the corner. Rodney stood there a few more seconds before following Ronon.

oOo

The pain ran through Sheppard like a flame following a line of gunpowder. It began in his head and spread down his spine. The images and noises seemed to rise to new screaming heights as the pain continued to escalate higher and higher. John fought it, trying to push it away, but then he faltered and the fire seemed to explode in his head. His world was crashing in and he was being crushed by the pressure. He cried out against it, seeking the friendly faces from before. They weren't there. He needed Atlantis, but she wasn't there either. The evil ones that had hurt him before were hurting him again. His pain and fear began to give way to anger. He wanted them to stop. He wanted to go home and they were stopping him.

John was beyond rational thought, so the decision to fight was not a conscious one. It was born of instinct and need. It was crude and unfocused. But he was going home to Atlantis and he was tired of hurting. He had no idea what was happening, but it began to build within him, guided by something deep inside.

oOo

Purdie watched as John's body slowly eased back down on the table, his brow still furrowed in a deep frown. John grunted slightly before opening his eyes. Purdie tensed, sensing that something had changed. The dark eyes seemed to look right through him before rolling back in the pilot's head as he moaned loudly. A few seconds later, his body went rigid again.

"Oh," said Kel, just before sparks began spewing forth from the control panel of the machine. The small alien began frantically trying to turn off the machine while trying to keep from being hit by the little bolts of electricity periodically arcing out of the panel. The lights flickered off and on several times.

"What's going on?" yelled Purdie, racing around to stand beside the Asgard. "What's happening?"

Kel continued to jerkily try to work the controls as he continued to avoid the sparks. "I believe the Colonel may be fighting back."

Purdie looked scared and confused. "Sheppard's doing this? How is that possible?"

"I am not certain, but the machine will not shut down." As he finished speaking, the front of the panel blew out in a shower of sparks that flung both man and Asgard back several feet.

Seconds later, Ronon, Teyla, and several soldiers burst into the room, lights flickering once before going out and the machine still sparking. Rodney and Carson followed a few moments later, going straight for Sheppard while the others checked on Purdie and Kel. Low emergency lighting made the room seem spooky, sparks occasionally leaping from the panel with a hiss.

"Carson?" said Rodney as he watched the physician check Sheppard's pulse.

"Aye, he's alive," said Carson, relief on his face. Ronon and Teyla came up behind the two men just in time to hear Carson.

"What were they doing to him?" asked Ronon angrily.

"I don't know, but let's get him out of this mess," said the doctor. He immediately began pulling the electrodes off Sheppard's head after making sure they wouldn't shock him. Teyla began removing the gag, while Ronon and Rodney worked on the restraints.

O'Neill came in and stopped as he surveyed the room. "I hope someone paid the insurance bill on this place. We've got power problems on this whole floor. What happened?" He looked over to see Sheppard's team as they finished releasing him from the bonds and electrodes. "What's Sheppard doing?"

"Being experimented on," said Rodney angrily. "What kind of a base are you running here, General? We're –"

O'Neill held up his hand. "Don't start with me, McKay. I'll get you back to Atlantis as soon as you people have your stuff together. Just try not to lose Sheppard this time."

"The Colonel won't be going any where for a while," said Carson. "I don't know what they did to him, but his pulse is weak and he's completely unresponsive. I'll need to take him to the infirmary and stabilize him before we move him to Atlantis."

O'Neill nodded and turned to the soldier next to him. "Get a med team with a gurney down here to help move Sheppard." He then walked over to where Kel and Purdie had been propped up against the wall, both surrounded by soldiers. "What in the Sam hill have you two been up to in here?"

Purdie rubbed the side of his head where a bruise was already becoming visible. "Research that you people are too short-sided to see the value of. We could accomplish great things if we were just left alone to do it."

O'Neill scowled at the man. "Well, I figure your great accomplishment the next few years will be cleaning toilets and trying not to become some bully's prison wife." He turned to Kel and shook his head while making a clucking sound with his tongue. "And I don't imagine Thor will be too happy with you."

O'Neill turned to one of the soldiers. "Are they all right?"

The man nodded. "Yes, sir. Just a little bruised and banged up, nothing serious."

"Good. Lock them up in separate cells for now. I'll question them later to find out what the heck they thought they were doing."

"I could help with that," offered Ronon.

O'Neill raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I'm sure you could. But then I'd probably get in trouble when the authorities saw what was left of them. But thanks, anyway."

Ronon nodded, looking down at the two like they were scum under his feet. "Let me know if you change your mind," he said, ending with a menacing growl.

Purdie ducked away from the Satedan and tried to scoot closer to Kel, who just shook his head sadly.

O'Neill nodded once as he turned to go. "I'll do that." As he walked back across the room, he saw them loading Sheppard onto a gurney and he paused to watch. Beckett was making sure the Colonel was settled comfortably before they transported him, even though he was unconscious. Memories of a time when his team had been carefully looked after by Janet Frazier ran through his mind, making him slightly sad. Sometimes he missed those days. Looking at the pale, almost lifeless form of Sheppard, he also realized that sometimes he was glad those days were behind him.

"I'm really getting too old for this crap," he muttered to himself as he followed the gurney and Sheppard's team from the room.

oOo

The group coming down the hall reminded Rodney of a funeral procession, making him shudder. He walked beside the gurney with a very still Sheppard, who Beckett had hooked up to IV. The doctor had wanted to keep the Colonel hooked up to the monitors they'd had on him the last hour, but Lam refused to let the doctor take that much of her equipment to another galaxy. She had argued that Sheppard was stable enough to transport until Carson had finally agreed. While the ill man's vitals were low, they were not immediately life threatening.

Ronon walked behind Rodney, his hand poised over his gun in case anyone tried to take Sheppard from them or stop their journey. The man was in full protection mode . . . no, make that full pissed protection mode and everyone with any intelligence was steering clear.

Carson was on the other side of the gurney from Rodney, constantly checking and rechecking the Colonel. He had mumbled to himself for the last hour about letting the Colonel get into such a state and scolding himself for letting the man ever leave Atlantis. There was no missing the fact that Carson was on a huge guilt trip.

Teyla walked quietly behind Carson. She had said almost nothing since they had found the Colonel, just stared at him sadly. Rodney had a feeling there was some guilt there too. Okay, so the whole team was having a "why did we let him leave" guilt crisis combined nicely with a "can't we kill these bastards" need for revenge. Heightmeyer would have a field day if she got hold of them any time soon.

They finally arrived in the gateroom and assembled at the base of the ramp. Their bags had already been delivered and lay in a heap at their feet. A few seconds later, O'Neill came through the door.

"You're ready to go. I talked with Elizabeth a few minutes ago, updated her on what's been happening, so she's expecting you. I'll tell you what I told her. We were just trying to help and I'm sorry things got so out of hand. I'm not sure how Purdie and Kel's intentions and behavior managed to stay below radar so long, but they'll be held accountable now. And Rodney, Hermiod said that he'll be contacting you later today with information about how they downloaded that stuff into Sheppard. He thinks he's got it figured out."

Rodney nodded. "Have they told you anything more?"

O'Neill shook his head. "No, but I'm going to spend some quality time with them after you leave. I still may come to Atlantis when Hank gets back, but for now I need to take care of this mess from here. I should hear from Thor later today."

Teyla came forward a step, facing General O'Neill. "We realize that you tried to help Colonel Sheppard and for that we thank you. We also appreciate your stepping in and trying to protect him when it became clear he was in danger."

O'Neill stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor for a few seconds before raising his eyes to meet those of Sheppard's team. "I appreciate that, but, truth is, I dropped the ball on this one. I'll do whatever I can to help fix the situation, just ask."

Rodney was tired and frustrated and, for once, only had one thing on his mind. "We want to go home."

O'Neill nodded. "Can't blame you for that." He looked up at the window to the control room. "Dial Atlantis, Walter. These people want to go home."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 14**

Elizabeth was pacing by the bottom of the steps as she waited for the gate to activate. She glanced at her watch then silently cursed herself when she realized not even a minute had passed since she last checked the time. She needed to calm down. But O'Neill's report had gotten her riled. Then there was the guilt.

More than anything, Elizabeth regretted sending Sheppard away. No matter that it had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, her gut had been telling her that sending Sheppard from Atlantis was a bad thing to do. She wished, with all her heart, that she had listened to her gut and kept him here. But she could kick herself about that later, knowing that she wouldn't be the only one doing so. She knew that Sheppard's team would be feeling the same way, even though none of them were to blame for what had happened. Although a small part of Elizabeth did blame O'Neill for not protecting John better. She had trusted him to keep Sheppard safe and O'Neill had failed. Even though she knew he couldn't have known about Purdie and Kel ahead of time.

"Gate activation, ma'am!" Chuck called out.

"About time," Elizabeth muttered, leaving her position at the stairs to move closer to the gate. She countered down the seconds and suddenly Carson and Rodney were coming through on either side of a gurney. Elizabeth ran to them, her eyes locked on Sheppard's pale face. "How is he?" she asked, Carson.

The Scotsman sighed. "Not good," he replied, sadly. "His vitals are all over the place. I need to get him to the infirmary and monitored. Rodney thinks that Hermiod will be able to help us fix the Colonel."

Elizabeth nodded, she had been in contact with Hermiod herself. "Zelenka will be able to help with that as well," she stated. "I contacted him about your return and he should be on his way to the infirmary as we speak. He and Hermiod have been working closely together to figure out what was done to John."

"Good." Carson looked a bit less worried. "I'll take all the help I can get. Especially after what happened before we left."

"The General told me that Purdie and Kel were experimenting on Colonel Sheppard and shorted out the power," Elizabeth countered. "Is that true?" She couldn't image how it could be.

Rodney answered. "The power did short out but I'm not sure it was anything Purdie and Kel did."

That surprised Elizabeth. "What do you mean?" she prompted.

"When I figure it out you'll be the first to know," Rodney prompted.

"Fair enough," Elizabeth replied. She managed a wobbly smile then turned her full attention to John. He was so still and so pale and it hurt to see him that way. She noticed a small disk in his hand. "What is that?"

Rodney looked anxious. "A part of Atlantis," he replied. "I don't know much more than that right now."

"We need to go," Carson interjected, looking anxious and he took Sheppard's pulse. "Let me get him settled and you can come check on him later."

Stepping away from the gurney, Elizabeth let them pass. She watched them go, then turned to greet Ronon and Teyla. "Do you two feel up to giving me a report?" She needed something to distract her and she could tell they did too. Carson wouldn't be letting any of them around Sheppard for a while, so they might as well occupy themselves thusly.

Teyla looked grim, but she nodded. "We can do that," she allowed.

Ronon looked like he was about to refuse, but he capitulated and followed Elizabeth to the stairs when Teyla tapped him on the arm.

Leading the way into her office, Elizabeth had to force herself not to turn around and follow the path of the gurney. She had to settle for praying that John would be all right.

OoO

Rodney caught sight of Zelenka the moment they entered the infirmary. He let Carson hook up with his med team and whisk Sheppard away. Rodney knew he could be of more help to the Colonel scientifically. "What have you got?" he asked Radek.

Zelenka was typing furiously on his laptop, not looking up to acknowledge Rodney's presence as he replied, "Hermiod may have discovered how the information was downloaded and between us we may be able to figure out a way to help the Colonel deal with the information. But we are not quite ready yet. Once Dr. Beckett has hooked the Colonel up to the monitors and I can get a data feed, then Hermiod and I will proceed from there."

"What can I do?" Rodney inquired, because he hated feeling helpless. He hated the fact that Zelenka knew more about this than he did. He wanted to be the one to help Sheppard, because that's what they did. They saved each other, time and time again, taking turns. He was part of Sheppard's team, not Zelenka. Which Rodney knew was a totally selfish thought, but he couldn't change how he felt.

"There is nothing to do but wait for now," Zelenka replied, sounding regretful.

Rodney moved so he could see the information on the laptop screen. "Catch me up," he ordered, sharply. He saw Zelenka blink at him for a moment, then the Czech nodded and began explaining what he and Hermiod had learned.

For the next hour, Rodney immersed himself in the knowledge, all the while looking for the specific something that would fix Sheppard. Rodney wanted his friend back.

OoO

John was swimming in cold darkness. Cold, so very cold and too dark. The darkness was tight around him, suffocating him. He wanted to scream at it, to fight against it. He wanted to feel warm and to see the light. He wanted to go home. He reached out to Atlantis and he felt incredible joy when she brushed against him, her voice a soft whisper in his head, as she slithered through the darkness to bring him into the light.

OoO

Carson had been watching the monitors. They had been back for three hours and the Colonel hadn't stirred. That worried him. His heart rate was slower than he liked, his BP was too low, his pulse was thready and his condition presented as if he were slipping into shock.

Sheppard was hooked up into a special monitor that Hermiod and Zelenka had rigged up. He wasn't sure what information it was giving off, but Rodney and Zelenka had their heads bent over a series of laptops and were whispering tersely. Carson hoped they were coming up with something. Anything.

Closing his eyes he scrubbed a hand over his face when he heard a loud beep. Frowning, Carson checked the monitors. The heart monitor beeped again. Loudly. Then again.

"What's wrong?" Rodney's face was pale and his eyes were wide as he moved to the other side of Sheppard's bed.

"I'm not sure," Carson replied, checking the other readings.

Zelenka made a squeaking noise, drawing their attention. "Something is happening!" he exclaimed.

Rodney made a beeline for him. "What's happening?" He nearly shouldered Zelenka aside in his haste to check the readings on the laptop for himself. "Something is happening," he breathed.

Carson made a sound of exasperation. "Would one of you please explain to me exactly what is happening so I can tend to my patient?"

The heart monitor made another loud beep beep noise then Sheppard shifted, his head rolling against the pillows.

"Rodney!" Carson was almost shouting as he dove at Sheppard, pressing fingers to the Colonel's pulse as if trusting his own touch over the machines.

Just then the lights in the infirmary flickered and dimmed.

Rodney looked terrified for a moment, then he smiled. "I think...I think it's okay," he said softly. "I think...I think it's Atlantis. I think she's glad we're back."

"I think she is glad Sheppard is back," Zelenka interjected, his eyes still glued to the laptop screen. A second screen displayed the readouts from the medical monitors. Heart rate, BP and pulse rate. "I..I think perhaps Colonel Sheppard is happy to be back as well."

"His readings are going back to normal range," Carson stated, as he studied the machine displays. He studied Sheppard's face. "He looks...peaceful."

Rodney moved to Sheppard's side, studying the Colonel's visage for a long moment. "He does look peaceful. Finally." Relief washed over him in waves. He knew Sheppard wasn't out of the woods, or cured, or anything like that yet, but he was damn sure the Colonel was finally safe. He was also pretty sure Zelenka was right. Atlantis and Sheppard were happy to be back together. Rodney knew that the two were connected, but he was beginning to believe that their bond was far deeper than Sheppard had ever let on. And when he was back to normal, Rodney was going to dog him about it until the Colonel told him everything.

Carson was grinning. "I don't know what just happened and, at the moment, I don't really care. The Colonel is doing better and I think it's time for you to get some sleep, Rodney. You look like hell."

"Why thank you!" Rodney snapped back. "Says the man who looks like death warmed over!"

"I'm going to sack out in my office," Carson stated. "Right after I give Elizabeth an update on the Colonel's condition. Go to bed, Rodney."

But Rodney shook his head. He felt reluctant to leave Sheppard. Bad things happened when he did that. Sure they were back on Atlantis, but Sheppard wasn't' fixed yet. Rodney didn't want to leave him. Besides which, if he woke up he would need to see a familiar face. His Azur. "I'm staying," he declared firmly.

Carson looked like he was going to argue, but then he simply sighed and pointed to the empty bed next to Sheppard's. "Then stretch out there and rest. If you're not asleep when I get back from seeing Elizabeth, then I'm going to sedate you. Using a very big needle."

"Fine." Rodney hid a gulp and climbed up on the other bed. He knew Carson wasn't kidding about sedating him, or the big needle. He curled up on his side, facing Sheppard, and let his eyes drift closed. They were home, Sheppard was doing a bit better, and come morning they would figure out how to make him well again.

With hope flickering like a flame inside him, Rodney drifted off to sleep.

OoO

Atlantis was singing to him and John was content. He knew he was back home and for now he let her voice wash over him, soothing him. He could feel how happy she was to have him back and he tried to convey to her that he felt the same way. The warmth of her happiness wrapped around him and he wanted to bury himself in it, knowing he would be safe there. But after a time he felt an ache deep inside him. Reaching out to her, he realized what the ache was. Atlantis was in pain.

He needed to go to her, but he was scared. Until Atlantis reminded him that he was home. So he opened his eyes, blinking hard and seeing a place that looked familiar and felt familiar, but he wasn't sure if he really remembered it or not. But he did remember where to go to find the heart of Atlantis.

Sliding out of bed, he tugged and pulled at all the things attached to him until they were gone and then he slipped out the door, as silent as the shadows that surrounded him.

He moved slowly but with certainty, ducking into dark spaces when anyone came close. He kept one hand pressed against the wall, the disk in the other, as he glided through the corridors. Atlantis led him to her.

He entered the room and the lights glowed for him. He moved to the chair and had just settled into it when alarms went off, loud and raucous and he moaned and covered his ears. Atlantis shuddered and John knew something bad was happening. Something was causing her pain. A different pain. He leaned back into her and closed his eyes.

**THE END...of part 14**


	15. Chapter 15

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 15**

Elizabeth had just entered her quarters when the floor shook and the loud boom of an explosion filled the room. Staggering a bit, she quickly regained her footing and hit her radio button. "Control, this is Weir. What's happening?"

"We're being attacked!" yelled Chuck through the com link. "It's the Wraith."

"The Wraith?" asked Elizabeth incredulously. "Are you sure?" The Wraith didn't even know Atlantis still stood, so how could they be attacking. Another explosion rocked the room. "Get the shield up!" she called into her radio.

"We're working on it," said Rodney's voice. "The city isn't responding, it's sluggish. Radek said you've been having system problems."

Elizabeth moved quickly into the hall, heading for the control room as the floor once against shifted, almost sending her to her knees. "I thought everything would be all right now that John is home."

Radek joined the conversation at this point. "It takes a bit to restore systems, even with the Colonel here. Plus Colonel Sheppard is still . . . "

"Radek's trying to nicely say that Sheppard is still practically a vegetable and any interaction between him and Atlantis is bound to be about as messed up as he is," explained Rodney.

Elizabeth sighed in frustration as she neared the control room. "Well do what you can as fast as you can before they blow us out of the water." She raced into the control room breathlessly and came up behind Chuck. "Do we know how many?"

"Just the one, right now," said the Canadian at the screen. He held onto the edge of the panel as the room shook violently and sparks began flying from a console across the room. A tech jumped back away from the bright flashes, yelping when one caught her on the arm. A marine was there spraying a fire extinguisher almost immediately.

Chuck suddenly sat up straighter. "Dr. Weir, there's a transmission coming through."

Elizabeth looked surprised for a second, then neutralized her expression and nodded. "Put it through." The screen flickered and then a Wraith queen appeared.

"People of Atlantis, we know you still live and that your defenses are weakened. We have been monitoring you for quite some time. Your city has experienced much fluctuation recently, allowing us this opportunity."

Elizabeth straightened her posture, standing tall to face the queen. "How did you know we were here?" She needed to know if all Wraith knew of their continued existence or only this one hive. If they all knew, Atlantis was in deep trouble, no matter what the outcome of the coming battle. If it was just this one hive, they stood a chance.

"A mutual acquaintance told us. I believe you refer to him as Michael."

"Is he with you . . . Michael?" Elizabeth intended to gather as much information as she could as she stalled for time, hoping Rodney and Radek could get the shield fixed while they chatted.

The queen smiled. "No, we . . . dropped him off. He had become contaminated."

Elizabeth smiled bitterly, their failure coming back to bite them in the butt yet again. That was one mistake they seemed destined to pay for over and over again. "Then to what do we owe this little call? Are you wanting to negotiate something or just gloat?"

The Wraith queen laughed. "Michael was correct about one thing. You humans have an odd way about you. I wanted to offer you a quick death in return for your surrender. You will die either way, but you can make it less painful if you do not resist us."

Elizabeth smiled again. "Well, we're kind of hard to get along with like that. I'm afraid you'll have to work for this meal. No freebies."

The queen nodded. "Michael stated you would not give up. I must admit, I would have been disappointed if you had."

"Well, we do aim to please, about some things anyway."

"Is Colonel Sheppard there as well? I have heard much about him. It will be a pleasure to be able to boast of feeding from him." The queen almost purred when she said the last part, making Elizabeth burn with anger.

"You'll just have to figure that out for yourself. Shut it down." The screen immediately went dark and Elizabeth shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her crossed arms.

"Is it just me, or was she extra creepy?" asked Chuck.

Elizabeth let the smile inch across her face before she turned to face the technician. "It's not just you. She's creepier than the average Wraith. Better hang on, this could be a rough ride." Elizabeth clicked her radio. "Rodney, please tell me we have a shield or weapons or something."

oOo

Fear and anger and pain swirled around John, threatening to completely swallow him. He fought to stay connected to Atlantis because she made things clearer, but she was struggling herself. It was as if they were reaching for one another, but somehow not touching. He needed her and he could tell that she needed him as well. Foreign images filled his mind, distracting him and pulling him away. John fought against them until one seemed almost familiar. He focused on the pictures and sounds associated with one of the many blocks moving through his head, ignoring the pain the concentration caused.

Wraith. Shields. Drones. Energy. It all suddenly flew together and, for a brief moment in time, made sense. They were here, hurting his city, and this was the answer. He dove into the memory even though it was not his and became one with it. It had saved the city once and he would use it now.

Atlantis hesitated, not wanting to let him help, but he pushed past her protests and went to work. The effort was draining and painful, but it felt good to focus his mind on something, to be useful again.

oOo

Shortly after communications with the Wraith ship were terminated, the explosions began again. Elizabeth was preparing another city wide announcement when they suddenly stopped, the silence seeming odd at first.

"The shield is up!" announced Chuck loudly, excitement filling his voice.

Elizabeth sighed and let her head sag forward for a few seconds. "Thank goodness." She touched her radio. "Good work, Rodney. Do we have weapons capability?"

"It wasn't me," said Rodney. "I wondered what you guys had done to bring it online, because nothing we were trying worked. Elizabeth. Drones are firing."

Elizabeth stepped forward to look over Chuck's shoulder. "That's confirmed, ma'am. Several drones have already fired and more are coming."

"Who's doing this?" asked Elizabeth, as much to herself as to anyone else.

"Check the chair room," said Rodney. "You don't think Carson developed a sudden hero complex, do you? What the . . . what is that? Radek, are you getting this?"

"What? What's going on?" asked Elizabeth.

"I don't know exactly, some kind of energy build up."

"The drones have stopped," said Chuck. The hive ship is damaged, but not destroyed. It looks like . . . I think they're getting ready to run."

"Wow, look at that!" exclaimed Chuck, pointing to the screen. A bright light flashed across the screen, followed by darkness. Chuck's mouth dropped open. "It's gone."

"What, the hive ship?" asked Elizabeth, as she continued to look at the now blank screen. "What happened to it?"

"An energy burst just destroyed the hive ship," said Rodney over the radio. Elizabeth couldn't tell if he was excited or amazed."

"How is that possible?" she asked.

"Elizabeth, this is Carson. We have several people here with minor injuries, but so far nothing major. We have another problem though. Colonel Sheppard is missing. I have no idea how he mustered up enough energy to walk out of here."

"Someone just obliterated the hive ship that was attacking us," she said. She was pretty sure she heard Carson sigh as soon as his radio came on again.

"I'll take a med team to the chair room and contact you later."

"Please do. Rodney, did you copy that?"

"We should have known," he responded. "Everything seems okay for now. I'll be in the infirmary if you need me."

Elizabeth felt the shaky loss of energy that followed an adrenalin rush. She looked down at a slightly pale and relieved looking Chuck.

"I guess it's a good thing the Colonel came home when he did."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "I'd say that was an understatement. Let's start damage inventory so we can see how much more work we have to do."

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he turned back to the controls.

oOo

Pain and exhilaration seemed to climax together, resulting in John's back arching off the chair. He was unaware of the tremors that shook him as his muscles locked forcefully. As the wave of energy passed through him, the muscles released and dropped him limply back in the chair. His energy gone, he was no longer able to focus his thoughts. Confusion swept back in as images and memories and sounds once again surged and swelled in his mind, racing together like waters swirling around a whirlpool.

Panic and dread filled him, but he was alone. No one heard his cry of fear. No one saw the seizure that wracked his body. No one saw him gasping for air.

oOo

Carson ran. It had been a while since he had actually run full tilt anywhere, but this time he ran. He'd felt something strange when Atlantis was attacked, but wounded had begun flowing in shortly afterward, and he'd ignored the feeling. He'd felt even odder when the attack stopped. After finding out his patient was missing, he was pretty sure he'd felt Atlantis kicking him to hurry. And so now he ran.

Skidding around the doorway to his destination, he went quickly to the pale, limp form in the chair. Placing a finger to John's neck, he felt the pulse, weak and thready beneath his hand. And then he checked for respirations.

"He's not breathing, help me get him to the floor," he yelled to his medical personnel coming through the door. Amy and Jack, two of his nurses, helped him lift John and move him to the floor. Within seconds, Amy had a mask over his face, squeezing the bag that would force oxygen into the patient's lungs while Carson kept a check on his heart.

oOo

Rodney heard them coming down the hall behind him. He stepped over near the wall as he slowed and turned around. Cason and two nurses whisked a gurney with Sheppard on it by him and into the infirmary. About the only things Rodney had time to see was that Sheppard was unconscious and had been intubated and Cason looked worried. He knew that couldn't be good. He had started toward the infirmary again when fast approaching footsteps sounded from behind him.

"Rodney!"

He turned to find Ronon and Teyla jogging down the hall. "They just took Sheppard to the infirmary and I'm on my way there now. I don't know anything, so don't ask."

"How did he get out?" asked Ronon.

"Did I not just say I don't know anything? You are still able to hear, right?"

Ronon's expression darkened. "I thought you stayed there with him," he said almost accusingly.

Rodney sighed, frowning as the remark kicked up his guilt. "I did for a while, but then I left to see what I could do with that program Radek and Hermiod have been working on. Sheppard seemed to be sleeping okay, so I thought . . . " He let his voice drift off as they entered the infirmary.

They could see Carson and his team surrounding John at the far end of the room. They knew better than to go any closer, so they stopped there to nervously pace around until the doctor was finished.

"It is not your fault, Rodney. You were trying to help John and you could not have known this would happen. What _can _you tell us?" asked Teyla.

Rodney stopped pacing and faced the two Pegasus natives. "Not much. I know the Wraith attacked the city. I know we couldn't get the shields to come up. It was almost like Atlantis didn't understand the instructions or wasn't actually receiving them. Then suddenly the shield came up and we started firing drones. A few minutes later, the drones stopped coming and a big wave of energy built up and then completely destroyed the hive ship. Next thing I know, Carson says Sheppard is missing and we figure he must be doing all that from the chair room, so Carson went to get him. Then we all just about ran over each other in the hall. The end."

"Thank you," said Teyla with a small nod. She took a deep breath and then turned to watch the flurry of activity around John's bed. Ronon and Rodney almost reluctantly followed her gaze. Through the voices of Carson and his staff as they exchanged information about the Colonel, the sound of a heart monitor and ventilator could now be heard. The three teammates stood and watched, mesmerized by the activity and almost numb from the recent string of events that left each wondering how Sheppard could take any more.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 16**

Rodney felt beyond exhausted. The adrenaline high from the Wraith attack had long since dwindled away, leaving him feeling drained and empty. His body felt weighted and sluggish as he sat in the chair next to Sheppard's bed.

Eight hours had passed since Carson had gotten the Colonel out of the chair. Rodney hadn't moved from Sheppard's side since the moment they were allowed to see him. Well, other than the half hour to shower and grab a plate of food. Carson had ordered him to go or be sedated. But Rodney had come right back with his lap top, mostly ignoring it in favor of watching Sheppard. Who wasn't doing anything. He wasn't even really breathing on his own, since the ventilator was doing it for him.

It freaked Rodney out a bit that Sheppard hadn't stirred at all. He didn't like seeing the man so still. He didn't like Carson's last update either. The Doc was worried about Sheppard's brain activity. At times it was off the charts, then it would suddenly even out again. The sporadic and strange readings had burned a frown line into Beckett's forehead. Rodney knew that couldn't be good, but he was afraid to ask for details. He preferred to believe that Sheppard was just sleeping and he'd wake up soon, back to normal.

Which was, of course, just an empty dream. When he woke up, because Rodney refused to even think if, Sheppard would still be as he had been. His brain still muddled from what Kel and Purdie had done to him. But Rodney was convinced they could fix the Colonel. They had to fix him. They needed him. Atlantis needed him.

"Rodney?"

He jumped at the sound of his name, turning his head to see Teyla standing beside him. She had moved so quietly he hadn't heard her approach. "Isn't it late?" he offered in greeting, feeling grouchy.

She smiled at him warmly. "It is late and I have come to relieve you. I will watch over John for a time. I know you do not wish him to be alone."

"I want to stay," Rodney stated. No way in hell was he leaving Sheppard alone again until he was better.

"You need to rest, Rodney," Teyla said gently. "There is an empty bed beside John's. You can rest there. I will keep watch and wake you if anything happens."

Rodney considered arguing, but she made a good point. And he couldn't hide the fact that he was exhausted. "Okay. But wake me if he so much as twitches."

Teyla nodded. "I can do that." She helped him out of the chair, took his lap top from him, then guided Rodney over to the other bed.

"Thanks," he mumbled, as she drew the blanket over him. He was lying on his side, facing Sheppard. But the moment he was fully stretched out, his eyelids drooped closed. Rodney slid into slumber.

He had only been asleep for two hours when Sheppard's heart monitor beeped loudly.

Teyla didn't have to wake Rodney or fetch Carson, who had been dozing in his office. Both were up and at Sheppard's side in an instant.

"What's wrong?" Rodney demanded, his eyes locked on Sheppard's pale face.

Carson was studying the readouts. "I think he's waking up. Colonel? Can you hear me?"

Sheppard twitched then his eyes flew open. One hand made a grasp for the tube in his throat as he started flailing in panic.

"Get that out of him!" Rodney shouted, feeling fear rush through him. He could tell that Sheppard was terrified and he couldn't blame him. It had to suck being on a respirator.

"Easy, Colonel," Carson said, pressing him back down. He looked at Rodney. "Keep him still so I can do this." Once Rodney was holding Sheppard, Carson pulled on gloves then he leaned over Sheppard and locked eyes with him. "I need you to cough, Colonel." He demonstrated since it was doubtful Sheppard understood his words. "Cough hard now!"

Sheppard seemed to get what he needed to do. He coughed, then started gagging as the tube was removed. Then he was coughing again.

Carson moved to raise the bed up more, then he grabbed a cup of ice chips. They were a staple at Sheppard's bedside. "Suck on this, Colonel," he said, slipping one into Sheppard's mouth.

After a moment the coughing eased and Sheppard relaxed against the pillows. He turned his head, looking at Rodney. "Azur," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, it's me," Rodney replied. "I'm here. You're okay now, Sheppard. You're home and you're okay." He wasn't sure if Sheppard would remember being back in Atlantis.

"Lantia," Sheppard breathed.

Rodney found himself smiling as Sheppard's eyes drifted closed. Apparently he did remember, which he took to be a good sign.

Teyla was by Rodney's side again, her gaze locked on Sheppard's pale face. "He's going to be all right," she said firmly, as if trying to convince herself and them.

"Well, at least he's no worse off," Carson interjected, not looking happy at having to play devil's advocate. He checked the other monitors, looked satisfied, then eyed both Rodney and Teyla. "Rodney, you lay down and get some more sleep. And Teyla, you can stay a bit longer but then you need to get some sleep as well."

"Ronon is coming to relieve me in a few hours," she replied. "I will leave then.

Rodney watched Carson nod then move off. He turned to Teyla who had returned to the chair. Then he watched Sheppard for a few minutes. The man's face was still too pale, but he looked more peaceful. And younger somehow. Maybe it was the fact that one of the nurses had shaved him that morning and even though there was stubble, it was lighter than it sometimes was. Or maybe it was just the fact that Sheppard was more at peace in this moment. Rodney sincerely hoped that was the truth. Sheppard had suffered enough.

"Go to sleep, Rodney," Teyla encouraged him.

"Right." Rodney squeezed Sheppard's arm then returned to his bed. He curled up under the blanket and watched the Colonel breathe, until sleep claimed him once more.

OoO

_He was dreaming again. This time he knew it was a dream, but he also knew the faces that filtered through his mind. Past and present. He recognized Baelon, the first one. The oldest of their kind. The creator of all. A god of sorts, but not the god. He saw the one he called friend. Azur. Rodney. He saw Deithra and Elizabeth. Maalar and Ronon and Sumner and Kolya and so many others. He knew them all, friend and enemy alike. _

_Atlantis was with him, humming softly, reassuring him. She would guide him...help him. She could heal him, she whispered. He believed her and that allowed him to sleep again, peacefully. Tomorrow he would find his way home._

OoO

Rodney was twitching in his chair. Elizabeth had called a meeting to talk about Sheppard. Carson had just reported that the Colonel was doing better overall. He was breathing on his own, but he was sleeping a lot as he was worn out from being in the chair and from everything that had happened to him before.

"So can you help Colonel Sheppard?" Elizabeth was now asking, and she was looking at Rodney.

"Zelenka and Hermiod have gone over the tests and the results and the findings are the same," Rodney replied. "By all rights, we should be able to help Sheppard get back to normal."

"But there is no guarantee," Zelenka piped up. "What we do will be by trial and error I am afraid."

Elizabeth nodded. "I know. But if we don't try then Sheppard will remain the way he is now. Correct?"

Zelenka nodded.

"Then I say we do this." Elizabeth stated.

Rodney was about to agree when Carson's radio beeped. They all looked at the Doc.

"Beckett here," he replied.

The voice on the other end blurted out, "Colonel Sheppard is awake and babbling in Ancient. He's also trying to get out of bed."

Carson cursed. "I'll be right there." He turned to Elizabeth. "Since there's Ancient babbling involved, you might want to come with."

"Of course." Elizabeth was on her feet and heading for the door.

Rodney had already gotten up and was out the door and almost running. He'd been feeling nervous since he'd woke up in the infirmary and he had a feeling something important was going to happen. Whether it was going to be something good or bad, he didn't know. He just prayed it was good, for once.

They ended up going en masse, Teyla and Ronon bringing up the rear. But they held back until Carson had a chance to look Sheppard over. Then the Doc was gesturing them to join him.

Elizabeth and Rodney came up together, on the free side of Sheppard's bed.

Rodney smiled to see that John looked straight at him, holding his gaze, but it was obvious the man was agitated. His thin fingers were plucking at the blankets and he was shifting about, looking like he wanted to launch himself out of bed. Rodney was just about to ask him what was wrong when John started to speak.

In Ancient. The words flowing out of him like water rushing down a stream.

Everyone looked to Elizabeth to translate. She was focused solely on Sheppard and what he was saying, but after a moment she began. "He's saying that Atlantis can heal him and that he must go to the chair. That's basically all he keeps saying, over and over again. That he needs to go to the chair."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Carson countered, looking rueful. "The Colonel is very weak right now. Being in the chair the last time nearly killed him. I don't want to risk a repeat of that."

"You have to let him try!" Rodney interjected. He didn't know how he knew, but he was positive that being in the chair would help Sheppard. It clicked into Rodney's head in this moment that the Chair and Atlantis were the key to healing the Colonel. "Let him do this!" He turned to Carson and locked eyes with him. "We owe it to Sheppard to let him try." Rodney wasn't one to beg for anything, ever. But he would beg now if it meant getting Sheppard into the chair. If it meant getting him back.

Carson made a face and shook his head, but then he took a look at Sheppard who was looking both desperate and hopeful. So he turned to Elizabeth. "I'm not in favor of it from a medical stand point, but I'll let this be your call."

Elizabeth didn't look happy. "Do you think it could kill him?"

"It's a possibility," Carson allowed.

Ronon stepped up. "This should be Sheppard's call. Tell him the risks and let him decide if it's worth it."

Everyone looked at him in surprise, because the Satedan looked almost angry. And an angry Ronon wasn't someone to mess with.

"He's right," Rodney stated. "This should be Sheppard's call." He looked at Elizabeth. "Tell him the risks then let him decide if he still wants to do it. He knows something we don't. We're only guessing about what's going on in his head. But last night he was peaceful for once and now he's about jumping out of his skin with the need to do this. I think it's up to Sheppard to make the call. I think we owe him that." Rodney broke off, panting for breath, since he had delivered his speech without pausing.

"Do you all agree with that?" Elizabeth queried, her gaze turning to Teyla, who nodded. Then she faced Carson, who hesitated, but finally nodded. She already knew what Ronon and Rodney thought. She drew in a shuddery breath, released it slowly, then turned to Sheppard. After clearing her throat she told him the risk involved in going to the Chair.

John looked at her for a long moment, then he smiled. "Egomae muto ben aloem."

Elizabeth looked shaken, then she translated, verbatim. "I must do this."

Rodney felt relief wash over him, quickly followed by pure fear. He knew that what happened next would be do or die for Sheppard. Still, he had to support his friend. "Get a wheel chair." He snapped his fingers at Ronon who was already striding to the other side of the infirmary.

John seemed to understand what was happening now. He let Carson fiddle with his IV, then he let Ronon guide him into the chair. Teyla covered his lap with a blanket and he smiled at her. He looked at peace with himself.

"We ready?" Rodney asked, because at this point he just wanted to get this over with. Either Sheppard would be back or he would lose his friend. The wondering which was getting to him. Rodney didn't do well with the whole faith and hope thing. He preferred the cold logic of science. And this was close enough to science. Sheppard was connected to Atlantis in a way none of them would understand. Rodney believed that with every fiber of his being. To the point where he was willing to believe that the city would save Sheppard because she needed him as much as they did. And that was a simple fact. It was logic. It was something he could believe in.

"Give me a minute, I want to have some equipment ready," Carson beseeched. He hustled about gathering what he needed, along with a nurse and a gurney, then he nodded. "Ready."

Rodney stepped behind the wheel chair and pushed Sheppard out the door. Ten minutes later they were in the Chair room. He helped Sheppard stand, supporting him when his knees buckled.

Then Ronon was there, scooping Sheppard into his arms and settling him in the chair.

Sheppard smiled at him, which surprised Rodney. Usually, if Sheppard was conscious and Ronon had to carry him, he was furious.

"What now?" Elizabeth queried.

"We wait," Rodney replied, his eyes on Sheppard.

_John closed his eyes as he settled his shaking hands over the arm rests. The chair lit up instantly, his connection with Atlantis as much a part of him as breathing. She was happy to see him and she wrapped him in her warmth and love before carrying him away._

_John felt like he was soaring._

**THE END...of part 16**


	17. Chapter 17

**Note: **Just thought I'd take a minute to say thanks for all the reviews and warn you that this thing is approaching monumental length. You know how we are when we get together.

**THE WHITE ROOM . . . Part 17**

Rodney watched John sleep, just as he and the rest of the team had done for two days now. After Ronon had placed John in the chair and it activated, the pilot had visibly relaxed, the lines of pain slowly disappearing from his face. An hour later, the chair had shut off, but Sheppard didn't wake up. Carson had moved him back to the infirmary and they had all kept a close eye on him.

"Why doesn't he wake up?" asked Rodney, sensing Carson's presence near the foot of the Colonel's bed.

"I don't know. But he doesn't seem to be in any pain and his vital signs are strong. I think he's healing."

Rodney tore his eyes from his friend to look at the tired doctor. "What do his test results show?"

Carson took a deep breath and pulled a chair closer to Rodney so he could sit. He looked at the unconscious man in front of him a few seconds before turning to Rodney. "Some of the tests are coming back with results similar to someone suffering from a traumatic brain injury. Rodney . . . even if Atlantis was able to help the Colonel, his recovery might take a while. And there is no guarantee that he will be the same."

Rodney's jaw line tightened, his expression darkening. "Kel and Purdie did this to him. I wish there was some kind of suitable punishment, but there isn't. There won't be any justice for Sheppard, not really."

Carson nodded sadly. "Aye, I know. Have you identified exactly how they did this?"

"Yes, between Hermiod and Radek and I, we came up with enough evidence they finally admitted what they did. They discovered an Ancient repository similar to the one SG-1 encountered several years ago, but it included both information and schematics as well as personal logs and memories. They believed if the information was downloaded in sections instead of all at once, the human brain might be able to handle it and be able to access the data."

Carson nodded. "Well, I can at least follow that line of thought. So how did they do it?"

"They loaded it into the _Daedalus_ beaming technology and linked it to the record of Sheppard's DNA. Any time the Colonel was beamed on or off the ship, it stuck some of this stuff in his brain. But it was loaded into his subconscious, so he didn't know it was there and couldn't access it. Apparently the last download was too much, or maybe the combined effect of several times close together. Anyway, it spilled over into his conscious mind and began trying to take over, but the downloaded stuff was all mixed in with his memories and knowledge and it basically shorted out the system, giving us one Looney Tunes Colonel."

Carson nodded. "That makes sense I guess. How did Atlantis help and why couldn't she help him before?"

"I suspect she couldn't do anything before because his brain was so scrambled that she couldn't make any sense of it. Hermiod thinks one of the tests Kel ran shows that Sheppard's brain was actually beginning to deal with the excessive information and sort some of it out. Connecting to that disk may have calmed him enough to allow that to start happening."

Carson sat up straight, surprised. "So the Colonel might could have fixed himself in a bit more time?"

Rodney chuckled and crossed his arms. "Yeah, in about a hundred years or so. No, he would never have gotten everything sorted out in his lifetime without help. Radek found a program in the data base that we activated and Atlantis was able to modify it to help Sheppard. The program was originally meant to help certain people learn vast amounts of information during periods of crisis. But the chunks of data were much smaller than what was placed in Sheppard, plus he's not actually an Ancient."

"Meaning there are physiological differences that made the process more difficult," said Carson as the full ramifications of what had happened began to sink in. "That's why his brain is reacting like it's been traumatized. In a manner of speaking, it has."

"Right. Radek and I have looked at the readings from what happened while Sheppard was in the chair. We both think it probably helped, but we aren't sure how much or how long it will take for the Colonel's system to deal with everything. It's still an overload situation, so we aren't sure if he'll ever be able to process it all or not." Rodney looked sadly back to his friend. "You were right, we may never get the John Sheppard we knew back," he whispered, fighting the flood of emotion that came with the admittance.

Carson watched Sheppard breathe for a few minutes before speaking. "There's a fine line between not giving up and holding onto unrealistic expectations. We're going to have to find that line and stick close to it so that we can properly help the Colonel."

"How do we do that?" asked Rodney quietly.

"We stick together and give each other support when needed, just like we've always done." Carson stood and looked down at Rodney. "Call me if you need anything." He turned and had only taken a few steps when Rodney called him back.

"Carson, I think he's waking up."

Carson returned, moving to the side of the bed opposite where Rodney was now standing. Sure enough, the Colonel was shifting restlessly, his eyelids beginning to flutter. A few seconds later, his body stilled, but his eyes opened, blinking once as he stared at the ceiling.

"Colonel?" said Rodney, leaning over the prone man.

John's eyes focused on Rodney for a moment before his face registered recognition. "Azur . . . Rod-ney."

Rodney's mouth spread into a wide grin. "Yes, that's right." He looked up at Carson, excitement filling his face and voice. "He knows me, Carson."

Carson smiled. "Yes, but he already knew you." He looked down at Sheppard and tapped him lightly on the cheek. "Colonel, do you remember me?"

John shifted his head on the pillow and studied Carson for almost a minute before smiling. "Car-son . . . doctor."

Carson nodded, obviously pleased. "And do you know where you are?"

John looked slowly around the room before bringing his gaze back to Carson. "Home . . . Lantis . . . thank you." He smiled and his eyelids drooped a few seconds before closing. "Home," he whispered again.

Rodney took a deep breath, once again trying to shove down the emotions inside him as he gripped Sheppard's upper arm. "Yes, my friend . . . you're finally back home."

oOo

Elizabeth clasped her hands in her lap, trying to process everything Rodney and Carson had just told her. A quick look at Ronon and Teyla told her they were doing the same. She shivered a little at Rodney's announcement that there was a chance John might not fully recover. "How long before we know the extent of John's recovery?"

Carson sighed and she got the distinct impression he was hoping no one would ask that. "I can't answer that right now. I can probably tell you more in a few days, after he's awake and I've run some tests."

"Perhaps we can assist in John's recovery," offered Teyla.

"Aye, I'm counting on it. The Colonel will need lots of help and plenty of patience, from _all_ of us." The doctor shifted his gaze to Rodney, who took almost a minute to realize Carson was staring at him.

"What? I can be patient."

"Since when?" asked Ronon.

"I've always been patient," said Rodney. "Well, except when people are being stupid or annoying or generally a pain in the butt."

"And how often is that?" asked Elizabeth, smiling.

Rodney grunted and stood up. "I think we need to go check on Sheppard," he said as he stomped out of the room. The others got up one by one to follow him. Rodney slowed as he neared the bed, realizing that Sheppard's eyes were open. "Colonel?"

John smiled at Rodney as the scientist came up to the side of the bed. "Home,"

Rodney nodded. "Yes, we've already covered that. You're home in Atlantis." Carson went to the other side of the bed, raising the head so Sheppard could sit up. Ronon, Teyla, and Elizabeth stood in a semi-circle around the foot of the bed.

"John, it's so could to see you awake. We've been very worried," said Elizabeth.

John grinned. "'m good . . . Liz-buth." He let his eyes wander over to the other members of his team. "R-Ronon . . . Tey, Teyla." He frowned like it took all his concentration to say the names.

Teyla's face twitched with concern and then she walked up beside John, Carson moving to allow her through. She studied his face for a moment before leaning her head forward and waiting. Several seconds later, John seemed to catch on. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. Smiling, Teyla pulled away and clasped John's hand. "It is good to have you back, John."

John nodded, looking almost embarrassed. "Back. Home."

Teyla gave one last squeeze to John's hand before switching places with Carson. "How do you feel, Colonel?"

"Good," said John.

Carson nodded and then looked at the others. "I need to run a few tests to get an idea what the Colonel's status is. Why don't you give us a little time and then check back."

Elizabeth nodded. "Okay. John, we'll see you in a little while. Don't worry, Carson can . . . " Elizabeth grinned and rolled her eyes. "I'm doing the bedside manner thing again, aren't I?"

John nodded. "S'okay."

Carson watched as Elizabeth, Ronon, and Teyla each said goodbye to John before leaving. Rodney continued to stand beside the bed. "Rodney, I need you to leave."

Rodney stood his ground, shaking his head. "I've been by his side since the beginning of this mess and I'm not leaving him now. You can do your test with me here."

Carson looked at John, who was watching Rodney closely. "Colonel, it's your decision."

John looked back at Carson. "Azur stay . . . Rod . . . Rodney stay."

Rodney smiled and gave a small nod to John. "The Colonel is used to me being here. It might make him more comfortable."

"Aye, I suppose you could be right. All right then, wait here and I'll be right back." Rodney watched as Carson walked across the room to retrieve a plastic bin and head back. Shifting his gaze downward, he noticed Sheppard seemed to be fascinated with his blanket, plucking fuzzballs off the surface.

Carson set the bin down in a chair and grabbed a clipboard from it. He wrote something with marker and then turned it toward Sheppard. "Colonel, can you tell me what this says?"

Rodney looked at the paper, reading it silently. _My name is John Sheppard. _He rolled his eyes as he looked back at John, wondering what the doctor was up to. His expression soon sobered, however, as he saw the pilot struggling. Shock turned to dread when John finally pushed the clipboard away, his face dark with anger and frustration.

"Can't."

Carson nodded, sad, but not surprised. He wadded the paper and threw it away as Rodney processed what he'd just seen. "He can't read? You knew, didn't you?"

"I didn't know, but I suspected." Carson handed the clipboard and marker to John. "Draw an _A_ for me."

John held the marker awkwardly, as if he'd never written before, and stared at the blank paper. Finally, he put the tip to the white surface and drew, biting his lower lip in heavy concentration. When he stopped, he scowled at the paper. "Not right." He angrily handed it back to Carson.

Rodney looked at the scribble, his eyes going wide as he glanced at Carson. The doctor simply nodded and set the clipboard down, carefully schooling his expression.

Carson dug around in the bin a few minutes and pulled out a plastic toy in the shape of a hollow octagon. Each side had an opening with a different shape. He handed the toy to John, who studied with the fascination of a child. Carson took several small shapes that matched the openings on the part John had and placed them on his lap. "All right, Colonel, see if you can match the shape to its hole." To demonstrate, Carson picked up an oval and turned the piece in John's hand until he found the hole that matched, then slid it in. "Like that."

John nodded and picked up a square. He turned the octagon around, passing the square hole and causing Rodney to wince. His face lined with concentration as he tried in vain to push the shape through a rectangular hole. He turned it several directions, but couldn't make it go in and couldn't seem to grasp why it wouldn't. Rodney felt his gut twist into a knot and he had to fight the urge to grab it out of the man's hand and show him the right way. John finally gave up and picked up a triangle. A few seconds later, he began trying to push it through a star shaped hole. He tried several times before throwing it across the room and pushing the rest of the plastic pieces toward the foot of the bed. Rodney and Carson caught most of them before they slid off to the floor.

"No . . . no more!" John's face was red with frustration or embarrassment. He seemed to realize that he should be able to carry out the simple tasks. He rolled over, turning his back to Carson and pulling the covers up to partially cover his face.

Carson placed a hand on his shoulder. "Colonel, lad, please don't take it so hard. It will get better, I promise. You've been through a great trauma and it will take some time to work through. But we'll be here to help you every step of the way." He gave the man's shoulder a squeeze. Just before he turned away, he thought he saw Sheppard wipe the moisture from his face and he fought to keep his own emotions in check. He nodded toward his office and then waiting until Rodney followed.

Rodney closed the door when they were both in the small room. "He's . . . he's . . . you knew he'd be like this?"

Carson sat down heavily behind his desk. "We discussed this Rodney, what did you expect?"

Rodney paced in the small space between the desk and the door. "I don't know, I mean I knew there would be problems, but I didn't expect this. It's like he's retarded or something. He can't read, he can't write, he can't even match up shapes. Can he feed himself and go to the bathroom at least?" Rodney knew he was approaching full-blown panic and he couldn't seem to slow that train down.

"Sit down, Rodney." Carson's voice was firm and authoritative, making Rodney stop his frantic motions before dropping into a chair. "The first thing you will do is calm down or I won't let you anywhere near him. If you're this upset, think how he feels. He'd afraid and frustrated beyond comprehension. We have to be steady and calm and supportive or we'll hurt him more than we'll help him."

Rodney nodded, but the fear still remained. "Calm, steady, don't panic. Got it."

"I mean it, this is important. He will get better, but we'll have to work with him, reteach him things. He knows them, but his brain has forgotten how to get from a to b. It will go much faster than teaching someone from scratch, but we have to take him through the motions. There will likely be physical problems as well. He'll probably have some trouble with walking and fine motor skills at first, so we may have to help him with some tasks until he's regained muscle control."

Rodney looked even more worried than before. "Oh, God, what have they done to him?"

"That's not important any more. What's important is helping the Colonel and offering support and _not_ making him feel inferior about things he's having problems with. Can you do that?"

Rodney's insides felt like they were twisted hopelessly by the whirling emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes, concentrating on the misery Sheppard had already been through. He had to do this for his friend. Opening his eyes, he looked solidly at Carson. "I can do this, for Sheppard."

Carson smiled and nodded. "I know that you can. We all can. We have to. I know I haven't tested his motor skills yet, but I don't think that would be appropriate right now. He needs some time to deal with what we just learned. And I think you and I should meet with the others and explain what we're dealing with."

"Yeah, I'm not sure we haven't jumped out of the frying pan into the fire."

Carson looked at Rodney, his expression hard. "We're being positive, remember."

"Positive. Right. Think positive."

oOo

John had felt so at peace when he first woke up. The voices and noises had stopped pounding around inside his head. They were still there, but he could almost make sense of them. Little by little, the known and the unknown were arranging themselves into retrievable slots. He knew where he was and he knew the people around him, although he seemed to have trouble bringing things to the forefront of his mind and even more trouble getting what he wanted to say to come out of his mouth.

He'd been even more pleased to see him team. He knew them; he remembered them. And he was home, where he belonged. Underneath everything was the gentle comforting thrum of Atlantis, guiding him through the maze that had become his mind. He knew he wasn't right yet, but he felt he was close, so much closer than he'd been in a long time.

And then Carson had asked him to read. The marks on the paper had been just that, meaningless marks on paper. They looked vaguely familiar, but other than that, nothing. The feel of the marker in his hand had been awkward and strange. He remembered writing before, but now it seemed foreign. The last task he'd recognized as a child's toy. He thought he remembered playing with something similar with the toddler of a friend shortly after he joined the Air Force. A toy for a baby and he couldn't do it. Heat flushed his face and he tasted the salt of tears. Swiping the wetness from his face, he was almost as frustrated at his loss of control as he was at his inability to complete simple tasks he'd been doing since he was a child. His thoughts were still so scrambled and foggy and he yearned for clarity, for a moment of pure lucidity.

Atlantis reached out, trying to comfort him and he pushed her away, preferring to wallow in self pity. But she would not be ignored and he soon felt her comforting embrace. Frustrated and depressed, he relaxed his guard, allowing himself to get lost in her hum.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 18**

He didn't want to eat. Eating made him feel weak and stupid and ashamed. Eating meant trying to use a fork or a spoon, which he inevitably dropped, splattering whatever was on his plate. So he stopped eating two days ago. He knew Carson was upset with him, but he didn't care. It wasn't as if he were hungry anyway.

"Colonel?"

John resisted the urge to sigh. Carson was back, no doubt for another attempt at making him eat. John debated pretending to be asleep. Carson would believe it. It was all he seemed to do anyway. Sleep and sleep, then sleep some more. What frustrated John all the more was that Carson kept telling him that all the sleeping was good for him. But it didn't feel like it was helping. John still felt tired and weak.

"I know you're awake, son," Carson said softly.

So John rolled over, one trembling hand rubbing at his eyes. He blinked hard then focused on the red mug Carson was holding. Steam was wafting up from whatever was inside it. Even from a distance, the aroma was arresting.

Carson moved closer, setting the mug on the table tray and pushing it over John's lap. He then pulled a straw out of his pocket and peeled off the paper before plopping it into the mug. "I've brought you some chicken broth, thickened," Carson explained. "I want you to try drinking with the straw. It was Ronon's idea. I don't know if you remember how fascinated he was by straws when you first showed them to him." Carson was smiling as he spoke.

"I 'member," John replied, forcing out the words. He did remember that moment, and how funny it was watching Ronon trying to suck up everything through a straw. Even mashed potatoes.

"Give it a try then," Carson encouraged. "You can leave the mug on the tray and bend the straw towards you. It should work well enough to get soup and juice and protein shakes into you. Once you've got some nourishment in you, you're body will get stronger and you'll do better with utensils. Because by then you're motor skills will have improved as well."

John gave him a doubtful look at that, but he reached for the mug anyway, drawing it closer and leaning in to reach the tip of the bent straw. He was able to suck up some broth without incident, and that made him feel surprisingly good. Although the broth itself didn't sit well on his stomach. He knew he needed to eat, but he really wasn't the least bit hungry. "Thank...Ronon," he said quietly. Because it was a good idea, and he was grateful.

Carson nodded. "I will. Now drink a bit more."

"Later." John pushed the tray away.

"It's already later, Colonel," Carson countered, moving the tray back into place. "You've gone without anything in your stomach for two days, and you weren't eating all that much before that. You have a fair bit of weight to put back on and you need to start now." His tone of voice was stern, brooking no arguments.

But John was feeling in the mood to argue. He was tired of being told what to do. Tired of being told he was going to be fine when he didn't feel fine. Everything and everyone was too loud and too cold and too confusing. He knew who everyone was here, and yet it was hard to put a name with a face at times. And when he slept he would see faces in his dreams that seemed far too familiar, yet he knew they were gone and that troubled him.

The only constant was Atlantis. She was a warm and familiar and comforting hum in his head at all times. He knew everyone was trying to help him, but he wanted to be able to help himself. Sometimes he forgot things, and sometimes he felt overwhelmed by everything, but John knew who he was. He knew the man he had been and he was still that man. Inside. He just didn't know how to get him back out and Carson wasn't helping. No one was.

"Later!" John repeated, sharply, pushing the tray away again. He was getting frustrated because he really wasn't trying to be difficult. His stomach was churning and he knew he'd puke if he tried to swallow any more soup. But trying to explain that to Carson took more energy and time than John could expend at the moment. Fighting to say a few simple words, to make someone understand him, just left him feeling more frustrated.

"Colonel!" Carson was angry now and letting it show. He grabbed the tray table and was about to move it back over in front of John when Rodney suddenly appeared.

Looking between John and Carson, Rodney caught on to the tension quickly enough. "What's going on here?" he asked. "Food fight?"

Carson glared at Rodney, then shook his head at himself. "The Colonel and I are just having a wee bit of a disagreement. That's all."

"Over soup?" Rodney peered into the mug.

"He needs to eat," Carson stated, flatly.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "He knows that." He glanced over at John. "You know that, right?"

It amused John that Rodney was trying to play peace maker. It also pleased him, because he knew that Rodney was on his side. He knew that Rodney had been there all along, trying to help him. He remembered Azur as a warm and comforting presence through his time in hell. "Sick," John said, patting his stomach. Rodney seemed to catch on to his abbreviated comments and what he was trying to say, better than anyone else. Although Teyla was a fair interpreter as well.

"You'll blow chunks if you eat any more?" Rodney guessed, clarifying for Carson's sake.

"Yes." John was relieved that Rodney got it and explained it for him. Of course he could have tried harder himself instead of getting mad, but he got so frustrated and tired that it was almost easier to just get mad.

Carson's anger instantly deflated. "Why didn't you say so," he said to John, then he waved a hand at him. "Never mind, it doesn't matter now. Get some rest and we'll try the soup again later."

But John wasn't ready to go back to sleep yet. He reached out and gripped Carson's wrist, stopping him from fiddling with the blankets. His grip was loose and his hand trembled, but he didn't let go. "Shower," John stated, because Carson had promised him last night that he could take one today.

"I said you could, didn't I?" Carson countered, looking unhappy. "A promise is a promise, Colonel," he allowed, but he shook a finger when John smiled at him. "But you can't do it alone. You can't stand up that long and you know it. I'll let you shower but I go with you."

John scowled, because he was tired of Carson being an ever-hovering presence over him. "I'll...be..." John had to search for the word he wanted, getting angry when it wouldn't come. He slammed a weak fist into the mattress, then it hit him and he mumbled, "...fine."

Carson heaved a tired sigh. "But you're not fine, son. Not yet, and you know it. You go in a wheel chair and I'll help you wash up, then it's back to bed. But I'll let you wear your own clothes, if that'll help. Sweats and a t-shirt instead of scrubs."

It would help, but John had planned on asking for that anyway. He was so tired of being confronted with how weak and helpless he was that he was pretty much ready to just forgo the shower, even though he'd been dying for one for the past two days. Sponge baths just didn't cut it, and he hated being treated like an invalid by the nurses. And what made things even worse was that everything seemed so very clear and obvious and logical in his head, but when he tried to say things or do things, nothing worked right. Not his mind, or voice or body. It made him frustrated enough to want to scream.

"I'll help him with his shower," Rodney interjected, speaking almost too loudly. He winced and lowered his voice to add, "Carson you can send someone for the sweats and the Colonel and I will handle the rest." Rodney turned his head and winked at John as he spoke.

Which gave John hope, which he was in dire need of at the moment. He knew that Rodney would let him do this on his own. Rodney was helping him but wouldn't smother him and John was grateful. So he looked at Carson and was ready to find the words needed to beg.

But Carson was nodding. "Fine, that'll be fine then. If the Colonel agrees."

"Yes," John whispered, smiling again.

So a few minutes later he found himself in a wheel chair and being pushed to the bathroom by Rodney. To his relief, Rodney babbled all the way about all kinds of things. John didn't really follow much of it, as his own thoughts were meandering around. They flitted back and forth between his present and the other's past and it was giving him a bit of a headache.

But he didn't mind. The babble kept him better focused over all, and distracted him enough during the process of getting out of the chair and undressed and in the shower on wobbling legs. But he did it on his own and he was proud of himself.

"I'll be right outside!" Rodney shouted to him. "Call if you need me. Okay?"

"'Kay!" John called back, after a moment of silence. During which he had to figure out to reply in English, not Ancient. Ancient seemed to come more readily to him. Elizabeth might understand him, maybe Rodney a little, but he couldn't communicate with anyone else that way.

A muffled knocking sound on the door then Rodney was saying, "Carson just brought your clothes, so get washed and then we'll get you back to bed.

John knew it was Rodney's way of telling him to do what he had to do but do it fast before he wasn't able to get it done on his own. Wise words, because what little strength John had mustered was already fading fast. In fact, just soaping himself up, which took a while to coordinate as it was, left him panting and leaning against the warm, tiled, wall. Which ended up being a good thing. He could feel Atlantis humming to him. She was always with him, but he could connect to her more by touch.

His connect with her gave John the energy burst he needed to rinse off. Getting the soap out of his hair took the longest. His hair was way too long now, but he'd worry about that later. Right now he knew that getting out, dried off and dressed was going to be a chore.

Not so surprisingly, Rodney was right there when John opened the door to the shower. He had a towel ready and he was all babbling and business as he got John dried and dressed. It was done so quickly and efficiently that John didn't even have time to be upset at the fact that he was being handled as if he were a toddler. All he cared about right now was getting back to bed. He was pretty sure he dozed off in the wheel chair ride from the bathroom to his bed.

"Sleep, Sheppard," Rodney was saying.

He was so tired that falling asleep would be a simple matter of closing his eyes. But he was tired of feeling so weak and useless and stupid and confused. He wanted some control back over himself and his life. So just to prove that he wasn't weak and a baby, John kept his eyes open and shook his head. Not a smart thing to do, since the movement sent spikes of pain through his temples and the headache that had been more of an annoyance than anything, became a full blown pain in the head.

"Sheppard?" Rodney was leaning over him, his eyes filled with worry, which was reflected in his tone. "You okay?"

"Siev," John mumbled, then cursed himself. He searched his aching brain for the English word. "S-sure," he stuttered, then he had to close his eyes and breathe through the sudden nausea that was roiling in his stomach.

Rodney, apparently, didn't believe him because he was stepping away and calling for Carson.

John couldn't find the words to stop him. Then Beckett was there and there was a pinch in his arm and soothing coolness and John wanted to weep in relief as the pain faded away. He tried to thank Carson, but the words would just thick sounds in his mouth, then everything faded to black.

OoO

Ten hours passed before he woke up. His head still ached but he didn't mention it when Carson came bustling over to his bed and began fussing. He accepted help to the bathroom without saying a word, letting himself be tucked back into bed. He took a sip of water but refused a mug of soup or any other food. He wasn't hungry. He wanted to be left alone in his misery. None of them could understand what he felt like, how hard it was to be so weak and alone. No one but Atlantis, who wrapped her warm comfort around him like a blanket. She understood him like no one else could. John clung to her, not missing the fact that he was like a child holding tight to his mother. He had to hold on tight. If he lost her, he would be lost himself.

OoO

Rodney listened as Carson updated Elizabeth and the usual suspects on Sheppard's condition. He knew the Colonel wasn't doing well, that he had retreated into himself. It frustrated Rodney as much as it made him angry. He wanted his friend back. But he knew they couldn't snap their fingers and make it happen. Still, he hated feeling like they were doing nothing and said as much. "Enough with the mumbo jumbo, Carson. We know what's wrong with Sheppard. What we don't know is how to fix him."

"He's not a broken toy, Rodney," Carson shot back, looking vexed. "It's not that simple."

"Make it that simple!" Rodney snapped. "What you've been doing isn't helping. He's getting worse. So let's change what we can."

Elizabeth looked intrigued. "What do you have in mind, Rodney?" she prompted.

He was glad she asked. "How about putting him in a new environment? He has to be sick of the infirmary. For one thing, he's prominently on display there and we all know he hates being the center of attention." Rodney knew, better than anyone, how much Sheppard hated being the focus of people. He liked to blend in with them instead. So he would do what he could to that end.

But Carson was shaking his head. "He needs full time supervision, Rodney. Developmentally he likes a toddler right now."

"We can take care of him," Teyla spoke up. Because she and Rodney and Ronon had discussed this before hand. She gestured to the three of them now. "We are his team, we will watch over him."

"You don't understand what's involved," Carson protested.

But Rodney shut him down. "He'd do it for us," he pointed out, which appeared to hit home with Beckett.

Heaving a sigh, Carson nodded. "Aye, that he would. But you're going to have to be with him at all times. At least one of you."

"I know." Rodney was way ahead of Beckett. "Ronon found the perfect place and it's just a transporter ride away from the infirmary so you'd have easy access to him if needed." Rodney turned to Elizabeth. "Don't take this personally, but we've already moved ourselves in. It's a huge suite of rooms on the sixth level and I've set it up so we can be self sufficient in every way. Sheppard won't want for anything. I've even made up a schedule so that the Colonel will have someone with him at all times." Which he meant in a very general way. He knew Sheppard would want to be alone at times and they would give him his space, while being close enough to take care of him if needed.

"You should have cleared this with me first," Elizabeth scolded, but she was smiling. "But I'll let it pass this time. How soon could you move Sheppard in?"

Rodney shrugged. "Right now, if Beckett approves it."

They all looked to Carson who looked a bit stunned. But he shook it off and slowly nodded. "All right, but I'm going to send some basic equipment over for monitoring and a nurse will be checking in on the Colonel every eight hours, at least for a while."

"Fair enough," Rodney agreed, trying to be nonchalant. Because, truth be told, he hadn't really figured on either Elizabeth or Carson approving the move. He rose from his chair, fighting a huge grin. "I'll go tell Sheppard." Then he was gone, practically skipping out the door. Once in the transporter he let his smile out even as he sagged against the wall in relief. Rodney was positive that getting Sheppard out of the infirmary would be a step in the right direction. He didn't need medicine to fix him right now. All he needed was his friends.

OoO

John dreamed about Kolya invading Atlantis, but the Genii commander morphed into a man called Eleeis. A soldier in some other army from long ago. John killed him, blood staining his hands and robes, only it wasn't him, it was someone else. But the memory of it and the smell of blood was so fresh that John startled awake, shaking and staring at his hands. They were clean but the scent of blood clung to his nostrils and he felt sick to his stomach.

"Sheppard?"

He tried to ease his ragged breathing as he turned his head to find Rodney standing there. "Wa-ter," John requested. He let Azur, no - Rodney- hold it for him. He felt better after a few sips and he settled back against the pillows, trying not to shiver as the cold sweat dried on his skin.

But Rodney noticed. "You okay?"

John managed to nod appropriately, after a moment.

"I have some good news," Rodney said, then he blurted everything out about moving from the infirmary and into a set of rooms with Rodney, Ronon and Teyla.

It was supposed to be good news, John knew that, but he felt nothing. He knew Rodney was trying to help him, but he also knew it wasn't enough. There was nothing to be done, nothing they could do. From the corner of his eye he saw Carson approaching, then a heavy hand was pressed to his forehead.

"Are you feeling all right, Colonel?" Carson queried.

John's response was to roll onto his side, his back to them. He closed his eyes and waited for them to leave him alone. He heard them step away, but then they were talking in hushed voices. He didn't even try to listen, even though he heard his name. Instead he reached out to Atlantis, letting her soothe him back into slumber.

He embraced the quiet darkness.

**THE END..of part 18**

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Bottom of Form


	19. Chapter 19

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 19**

John tried to open his eyes, but it felt like they were glued shut. He moved his hand to rub away the crust that had his eyelashes bound together, but had trouble getting his fingers to the right place. He settled for scrubbing his whole face in an effort to remove the offending crud. Seconds after waking, he found himself frustrated at the difficulty of performing such a simple task.

Blinking heavily, he shifted in the bed and then stopped, lying still. Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon sat on the adjacent bed watching him. He suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope, causing him to squirm under the covers. "Ohe!"

Ronon and Teyla frowned and looked at him strangely. John cringed and rubbed his head, thinking. He finally dropped his hand and looked back up at them. "Uh, hey."

Teyla smiled and nodded. "I'm glad you are awake."

Ronon slid off the bed and clasped his hands together. "It's moving day, Sheppard."

John had a moment of panic, trying to figure out what Ronon was talking about. His expression must have given him away, because Rodney stood and stepped over to stand beside him. "We fixed up a suite of rooms for the team to stay in, remember? Carson says we can take you there as long we abide by his New York telephone book size list of rules. We've got everything ready to move you in."

The conversation with Rodney finally surfaced in John's memory and he gave a slight nod. "I 'member," he said neutrally.

Teyla looked at Ronon and then Rodney before looking back at John. She walked over and put her hand on his. "Do you want to go with us?"

John looked at her hand on his for several moments. What he really wanted was to be left completely alone until his mind and body worked again. Every waking minute was humiliation, frustration, and embarrassment for him. He hated it more than anything he could remember. He felt slow and stupid most of the time. But when he looked up into Teyla's eyes, he didn't see pity. He saw compassion.

"Carson says that you will get better, John. It will not always be like this. But it will take hard work and support. As your team, we would like to help you with that if you will let us."

John looked from Teyla to Rodney and then to Ronon. He saw the same look in each face. They were his team. He nodded and flashed them a weak smile.

Rodney clapped him on the shoulder. "Good, now that the mushy stuff is over, I'll get the wheelchair. Better yet, Ronon, you get the wheelchair. You're the muscle in this group."

Ronon gave a small, non-threatening growl and then went to get a wheelchair. He returned a minute later with Carson in tow.

"Colonel, I see your team is trying to sneak you out without a final check. I'm afraid you're corrupting them, lad."

John did his best to look indignant. "Not my . . . idea," he stammered.

Carson smirked as he pulled out his stethoscope. "Aye, likely story. Just let me have a listen to your heart and lungs." John sat silent and still as Carson did his thing. When finished, the doctor stood up and looked at him silently for a moment. He then placed his hand on John's forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"

John gave a short nod. In truth, his head hurt a little, but then it almost always did any more. He had come to think of that as normal. "I'm 'kay."

Carson frowned and continued to study John, making him nervous. "You feel a might warm and you haven't been eating lately. Maybe we should postpone this move for a day or two."

John didn't want to be in the infirmary any more. He felt like he was on display, everyone stopping by to see the brain damaged colonel who couldn't even feed himself without making a mess. He was tired of the whispers and the sad looks. "No. Go," he pleaded, not caring how pathetic he sounded.

Carson sighed and crossed his arms. He finally nodded. "All right, you can go. But I'll be keeping a close check." He smiled as he relaxed his arms and let them drop to his sides. "After all, I wouldn't want you to be starting any trouble."

John's mouth twitched into a shaky smile. "No trouble."

Carson stepped aside so that Rodney and Ronon could help John out of bed and into the wheelchair. Teyla picked up the blanket and draped it over the Colonel's lap, tucking it in around the edges until he weakly tried to push her hand away. "Not a baby," he mumbled.

Teyla arched one eyebrow as she straightened, but didn't say anything. She moved to one side so that Ronon could push the wheelchair out of the infirmary. Elizabeth met them in the hall on the way to the transporter, Carson and his medical bag bringing up the rear of the parade.

"Good, I made it in time," she said as she joined the group. "John, are you excited about moving out of the infirmary?"

John nodded as they stopped by the transporter. He stared down at his hands self-consciously, wishing he could hide somewhere. With words either eluding him completely or getting mixed up, he was always afraid to say much. Sometimes he seemed to have very little control over his thoughts or his speech. He looked up at the gentle touch on his shoulder to see Elizabeth looking at him with a small smile.

"Hang in there. My mother used to tell us _this too will pass _when things weren't going well, and they always did. We'll do everything we can to make it go faster and easier."

John nodded. "Gratiae . . . uh, thanks." John was grateful when Ronon pushed the wheelchair into the transporter. They arrived at the rooms a few minutes later. John was surprised at how homey the place looked. They entered a central area that had been set up as a living room, complete with a green battered couch and matching chair that looked like they'd been rescued from a yard sale. John almost laughed at the mismatch of furniture and crate end tables.

"Who . . . dec . . . dec . . . "

"Decorated?" asked Rodney.

John nodded.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Why, do you like it? We could redo your quarters when you move back."

"We call it early outer galaxy hodgepodge," said Rodney. "And don't be insulting it. I had to give all my chocolate and half my special dark roast coffee stash for the couch. Just remember not to sit on it unless there's someone here to help you get up. And I'm not just talking to Sheppard. This thing will seriously suck you in."

"I like it," said Ronon, grinning as he plopped down and sank into the deep cushions.

"You would," muttered Rodney.

John grinned, his defenses dropping as he felt himself relaxing. It seemed so normal for a moment. He scanned the room to see what appeared to be a small kitchen and eating area directly across from the door. The Ancient version of a sink and cupboards were against the wall and a table with chairs sat on the floor in front of the area. He assumed the hall to the left of the kitchen led off to the bedrooms.

Carson kneeled in front of him, getting his attention. "How are you doing, Colonel? Do you feel like eating or would you rather lie down?"

John was tired, but not sleepy. Looking toward the kitchen, he decided he was hungry. "Eat," he said. He didn't relish the idea of struggling with utensils, but better in front of his friends than an endless parade of people he barely knew. He was further pleased with his decision when Carson practically beamed at him.

"Good. I have Kelly bringing some soup in a minute, just in case you were hungry."

John grunted. He should have figured.

"What about the rest of us?" asked Rodney. "Did you send out for food for us too?"

Carson sighed and shook his head. "I'm not running a bloody catering service, Rodney. Your legs are fine. Walk to the mess hall. Actually, the exercise would be good for you."

Rodney rolled his eyes dramatically, making sure John could see. "You know, a simple no would have sufficed. Someone got up on the wrong side of his bedside manner."

Carson looked relieved at a knock on the door and went to answer it. Kelly brought in a mug of soup and a small bowl of pudding and set them on the table. Carson thanked her and then walked over to the counter, pulling a straw from a package. He placed it in the mug and moved it to sit in front of John, who had been pushed up to the table by Ronon.

"I don't think it's too hot to drink, Colonel, but you should be careful." John nodded and leaned forward, taking the straw between his lips. He slowly took a sip, the warmth feeling good as it slid down his throat. He looked up to find Carson and the whole team watching him and quickly looked down at the table. How pathetic were you when drinking soup from a straw became a spectator sport.

John's reaction caused the others to realize they had been staring and everyone quickly averted their eyes and began moving around to break the awkward silence. Rodney walked up to the cabinets and began browsing through them. "Did we stock anything in here besides junk food?"

"Nope," said Ronon. "You said junk food was the most important food group."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Rodney, are you trying to get your whole team to die from sugar or salt poisoning?"

"Hey, we're doing just fine, thank you very much." He narrowed his eyes and leaned slightly to see around Carson. "Sheppard is starting to list."

John winced. Caught. He knew he'd been leaning increasingly to one side, but he just didn't have the strength to right himself. Ronon came up behind him and almost lifted him from the chair, setting him back upright. His faced flushed slightly. "Sorry."

Carson noted that the soup was almost gone. "Do you need some more soup?"

John's stomach felt almost overly full. No way it was holding more without making him sick. "No."

Carson nodded. "You did well, lad. What about the pudding?"

John looked at the small bowl. He wanted the pudding, but he knew better than to eat it now. He looked up at Carson. "Later?"

Carson nodded. "We'll save it for later then." He noticed Rodney looking at the pudding and pulled the bowl closer to him. "Rodney, this is not for you. Colonel Sheppard needs to eat and you'll not be stealing his food."

Rodney huffed. "I have my own junk food, Carson, I don't need to resort to taking Sheppard's."

"Good to hear." Carson looked down to find John already starting to lean to one side again. "Colonel, I think it's time to get you in bed."

"Not . . . sleepy." John wasn't sleepy. He hadn't even been awake very long and he was sick of sleeping all the time. The problem was that he was already incredibly tired. His energy reserves got used up almost instantly. He was back to feeling weak and useless. _Buck up and quit whining, Sheppard. _

"You don't have to go to sleep, but you don't need to overdo it. It's amazing how much energy it takes just to sit in a wheelchair when you've been ill for an extended period. I know you want to get better and I know you want it to go faster than it is. But the truth is, it's going to take time. You're body's been traumatized . . . and your brain as well. You have to give yourself time to heal."

John nodded, knowing the doctor was right. He winced, the movement making the pain in his head sharpen. Carson noticed. "Ronon, would you help me get him to bed?"

Ronon nodded and came up behind Carson as he wheeled John down the hall and into the first bedroom. Rodney and Teyla followed. Carson put the wheelchair next to the bed and he and Ronon helped John up and into the bed. Carson arranged the pillows behind John so that he was sitting when he leaned back against them.

"All right, Colonel, I've got to get back to the infirmary now, but someone will be by in a few hours to check on you."

John looked up at Carson and gave a small nod. "Thanks."

Carson nodded. "If you need something before then or begin to feel poorly, let one of them know and they can call me. I'm going to leave you some Tylenol for that headache."

After a brief nod, Teyla and Ronon left with Carson and Rodney pulled up a chair. "So, you said you weren't sleepy. Feel like working on your reading skills?"

John's eyebrows rose. "Reading?"

"Yep. Carson said you've already been working on the letters, but you're having trouble putting them together in words. I have a little something to help with that." He opened his hand to reveal a stack of index cards. Rodney reached out to grab a rolling tray table like the ones in the infirmary and adjusted the height so that it fit over John's lap. He then pulled the rubber band from around the stack of cards and set the first one on the table. Someone had written a word in block letters with marker. "Okay, first, what are the letters?"

John looked at them, concentrating. "C – A – T."

Rodney nodded. "Good. And C-A-T spells cat."

John stared down at the card. "Cat." He couldn't come up with the word himself, but now that Rodney had told him, it sounded right. He drilled the letters and the word into his mind, trying to make it stick. Rodney set another card on top.

"Okay, now this one."

"C-A-N."

"Right. And C-A-N spells can. See the difference. Cat. Can."

John moved the top card over a little so he could see them both at once. "Cat. Can."

"Good. Now try this," he said as he set out another card. They continued for another thirty minutes before John began to feel himself drift. He jerked his head up when he suddenly realized he'd drifted off and let his chin slide to his chest. Rodney was sitting in the chair grinning at him. "Quidnam?" What?

"Nothing. Just thinking it's time for you to rest before you give yourself a pain in the neck instead of just being one."

Rodney was insulting him and it felt good. It felt normal. He didn't delude himself into thinking that anything was actually normal, but the banter at least gave him a tiny moment of relief from the overwhelming sense of tragedy. He was worn enough not to argue. And despite the pain reliever Beckett had left, the intense concentration of the past half hour had left his head pounding.

John allowed Rodney to rearrange his pillows so he could lie back, but was thankful when the scientist didn't try to adjust his covers. He was barely horizontal when he let the pull of sleep overcome him.

oOo

He was running through a forest, his lungs burning in his chest as he fought to keep his feet underneath him.

"Wraith!"

Seeing movement in his side vision, he turned to his right and immediately fired at the advancing Wraith, along with the people around him. A few of them fell, but there were so many that they were overtaken almost immediately. Pain exploded as he was hurled several yards through the air to land awkwardly on a stump. He heard the snap of bone at the same time he felt the bone in his back give way. Dark spots danced in his vision as he fought to breathe through the fire that raced up his back. Oblivious to everything but the pain, he fought to stay conscious. He didn't know how long it lasted, but suddenly everything was quiet. He lifted his head to see nothing but misty fog swirling near the ground in the dim moonlight. When he tried to get up, he was dismayed to find he couldn't seem to get going. It took several times before he realized the problem. He couldn't feel or move his legs.

He lay panting in fear for a long time, afraid to cry out for fear of bringing Wraith instead of help. But after a while, he no longer cared. He wasn't walking out of here and he didn't want to lay here and die alone. "Help? Can anyone hear me?" No one answered. There was no sound except for the sound of his heavy breathing. It occurred to him that everyone was dead or gone and he'd been left alone, his back broken, leaving him unable to move. He would die here. . . eventually.

"Adjuvare . . . placere adjuvare." Please help.

He jerked as something touched his arm and opened his eyes. Teyla's wide eyes looked down at him in worry. She was rubbing his arm gently. "John, are you awake now?"

He looked up at her, his frantic breaths beginning to slow as he realized he was back in Atlantis and safe. He closed his eyes and tried to swallow, but his mouth was incredibly dry. "I'm . . . kay." He kicked at the covers, his shirt stuck to his torso with sweat and his hair plastered to his head. "Hot."

Teyla gave a small smile, but she still looked worried. She got up from her position of sitting on the side of the bed and returned a few seconds later with a glass of water and a straw. He didn't fight as she helped him sit up and handed him the glass, keeping a steadying hand underneath his. He drank the cool water and relished how good it tasted, at how soothing it felt sliding down his throat. When he was finished, she set it on the table beside the bed and helped him lay back down.

"Dream?"

John nodded. "Bad . . . like memories . . . but . . . not mine."

Teyla took his hand and held it. "Rodney says that the information that was downloaded into your mind included some personal memories of some of the Ancestors. Many of them were soldiers. Many of them suffered horrible things."

John frowned and rubbed the side of his head. "Take . . . " He floundered for a moment, searching for the word. "Take out."

Teyla looked down at his hand briefly before making eye contact again. "Rodney and Carson say that cannot be done. They feel that, in time, you will be able to manage the new information and the memories."

John looked away and closed his eyes. His head throbbed and he felt like he was suffocating. That was not what he had wanted to hear. He decided all this lying in bed was taking a heavy toll because his whole body felt achy.

A noise at the door had them both looking up to see Rodney and Carson enter. "See, I told you he'd be awake," said Rodney.

Teyla stood as Carson came over to sit on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

John shifted over a bit to give Carson more room. "Hot."

Carson took in the damp shirt and hair, along with the beads of sweat on his patient's face. "I can see that."

"I believe John was having a nightmare," said Teyla.

Carson took John's pulse, blood pressure, and temperature before breaking out his stethoscope. When finished, he sat looking at John for a moment. "You still have the headache?"

"Yeah. Tired."

Carson nodded. "You're running a bit of fever. Your lungs are clear so far, thank goodness. With you being down so long and not getting proper nutrition, I'm afraid your immune system isn't what it should be. I suspected you were headed this direction when you felt a bit warm earlier, so I came prepared. We'll get you started on some antibiotics and hopefully this won't get any worse, but you'll probably still feel under the weather for a few days."

John shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? He wasn't even surprised.

Carson stood and patted him on the shoulder. "It's not so bad, just a mild infection. Let's just be sure we keep it that way. I'll just get your medication and be right back. Rodney said you made good progress with the words. I think as you work on it, the reading will come back to you." He grabbed the empty glass on the table, taking it with him.

Carson returned in a few minutes with a refilled glass of water and some pills. "Here you go, your antibiotic and some Tylenol for the fever and aches."

John went to put all three pills in his mouth, but managed to drop one. When he tried to pick it up, he spilled the water and dropped the other two pills. Angry and frustrated, he threw the half-empty glass across the room. Thankfully it was plastic, so it didn't shatter. For one brief second, when the cup connected with the wall, he felt a splash of satisfaction. Then he looked up at Carson's stern face and felt foolish.

"Feel better?"

John just dropped his head and stared at the wet spot on his blanket. "Nulla." No, he just felt stupid.

Carson picked up the three pills and set them on the table. "I'll get you some more water and then we'll get your blankets changed." After reclaiming the cup from the floor, he left the room. John sulked, wishing he had the strength to crawl out of bed and hide. Now he was having temper tantrums like a five year old. He almost smiled. At least that fit his ability level. If he was going to be five, he might as well act five.

"All right, Colonel, let's try this again, but more slowly." Carson strolled over to the bed and handed John one pill and the cup. John sighed. And now he was being treated like he was five. He supposed he deserved it. Concentrating, he managed to get the pill to his mouth without dropping it. He repeated the performance two more times until he'd taken all his medicine like a good little boy. Carson took the now empty cup. "Good job, Colonel."

John looked up at him petulantly. "No . . . s-s-s-sticker?"

Carson smiled and shook his head. "Not until you learn not to throw your cup. I don't blame you for being frustrated, you know. I would be. I'm just thankful for plastic."

John averted his eyes back down to the bed. "Sorry."

"I know you are, lad. And I'm sorry we let you get in this state in the first place. But we'll muddle through. Now, let's get you a dry blanket." Carson pulled the blanket off the bed and was happy to see it was the only thing wet. He pulled a new one from the inset shelves on one side of the room and spread it over the bed. John just pushed them off, making a sour face.

"Hot."

Carson nodded as he folded the blanket back to the foot of the bed. "I know you are now, but you may be cold after while if your fever breaks. I want this to be in easy reach."

"Kay."

Carson arranged the pillows so that John was sitting up more. "There. I think Rodney has gone to get a movie for you to watch. They're making a place for you up there so you can all watch the movie together. And if you eat well at supper, there is a surprise for dessert. Rodney found some ice cream and don't ask me where. It may be better that we don't know."

John's eyes went wide. "Ice cream?"

Carson laughed at John's reaction. "Aye, ice cream."

John smiled and nodded. "Feel better."

Carson put his hands on his hips. "So all this time, the only medicine we really needed was ice cream. Who knew?"

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 20**

John enjoyed his ice cream. Even though it was only a few bites, it made him feel cooler. He enjoyed watching his team eat ice cream and especially the looks on Teyla and Ronon's faces as they tried it for the first time.

The enjoyment ended when he realized he needed to use the bathroom. Ronon must have been watching him closely, because he set aside his dish and crossed the room, leaning over John to ask,

"Bathroom?"

"Yes." John was pleased with himself for remembering, and using, the right word. He wasn't so pleased when Ronon helped him to his feet and his knees buckled. Then there was the head rush when he was swept off his feet and into the Satedan's arms. He hated being so weak and having proof of how much strength and weight he had lost. Proof in how easily Ronon carried him. As if he weighed no more than a child.

Once in the bathroom, Ronon settled John on his feet. "It was quicker this way and I thought you might really have to go. It's been a while since you last went."

John did really have to go so he didn't argue the point. And it wasn't as if he'd be able to find the words to do so anyway. Instead he focused on the simple act of relieving himself without falling over. Or, what should have been a simple act, if only he wasn't so unsteady on his feet. Or so dizzy.

Once finished he staggered over to the sink. He washed his hands and splashed cool water on his face. It felt heavenly for a moment, but then he felt himself shivering. His head and body ached in a way that made him feel a bit nauseous and he swallowed hard.

Ronon must have been watching him closely because he was scooping John up and returning him to bed without a word.

John felt himself being settled down gently, which he was grateful for. Then Carson's face was hovering over him and he didn't remember the doctor being there a few minutes ago. John wondered if he had zoned out.

"I'm going to take your temp again, Colonel," Carson stated, gripping John's head and pushing the thermometer into his ear.

It hurt and John wanted to pull away and curl up in a ball. He heard a beep that sounded loud in his head, making it ache more, then Carson's voice.

"It's going up on us," said the doctor. "I was afraid of that."

"What do we do to help him?" Ronon asked.

John didn't listen to the reply. He let himself slide into darkness. He didn't feel the hands that smoothed cool rags over his skin. He didn't feel the pin prick in his arm as Carson gave him another shot. He didn't see the worried faces of his friends. John knew only cold dreams and black shadows.

OoO

Elizabeth was worried about John and she said as much to Carson, who had stopped by her office. "Is he going to be all right?"

"I hope so." Carson was slumped into the chair across from her desk, looking worn and worried. "His fever keeps edging up, in spite of the antibiotics. Ronon and Teyla are tireless though. They keep cooling him down. If his fever doesn't level off soon, I'll consider trying a cooling bath."

"He'll hate that," Elizabeth stated, shuddering a bit at the thought.

Carson looked sympathetic. "I know, but it may need to be done. His system was a mess and it's not really a surprise he's gotten sick like this. I had hoped to avoid it though. He was just starting to make some progress. The set back may end up having more of an effect on him than the actual illness."

Elizabeth realized the truth of that, but at this moment all she felt was relief. The way Carson was talking made it sound like he was positive that John would get through this okay, and that was all that mattered to her now. "We'll help him deal when the time comes," Elizabeth said softly.

"Aye," Carson mumbled.

"Will you be moving him back into the infirmary?" Elizabeth was actually surprised he hadn't done that already.

Carson sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and looking like he wanted nothing more than to doze off right there in the chair. "It was my first instinct," he allowed. "But Rodney has put up a good argument for letting the Colonel stay in their room. I have everything I need to take care of him there already, and two nurses assigned. Unless complications arise, I'll let him stay put."

Elizabeth smiled, imagining the argument Rodney might have used, and easily hearing the tone it would have been delivered in. "Maybe it will help John to know he's with his friends." She knew, as everyone did, how much he had hated feeling on display in the infirmary.

"It might at that," Carson conceded, as he pushed himself out of the chair. "I need to go back and check on him. I'll keep you updated on his condition."

"Thank you." Elizabeth watched Carson shuffle out the door. When she was alone again she let her head rest on her folded arms as she gave a little prayer. Just once she wished something could go easy for John Sheppard. The man had earned it tenfold.

OoO

_He hated being helpless. Hated that he was too weak to do anything but lie around and sleep. When the claxons went off, they startled him to the point where he nearly fell out of bed. He steadied himself and reached for his radio. He tried contacting Weir, then Rodney when she didn't answer. Then the rest of his team. Nothing. The claxons echoed in his head, making it ache, even as fear coiled in his gut, making him feel sick._

_Forcing himself up and out of bed, John practically crawled over to the wheel chair that was parked against the wall. He got into it, loathing it, but knowing it was the only way he'd get anywhere. He was too weak to walk. It was an effort just to roll himself across the room to his gun, only to realize he didn't have any bullets. No one trusted him enough to let him have a clip._

_Throwing his gun on the bed, John wheeled himself out of the room and down the corridor, wincing at the claxons continuing blare. He connected with Atlantis and she listened and suddenly the noise was gone. There was quiet falling around him, shrouding him as he made his slow way down the hall._

_He turned a corner and froze. The corridor before him was strewn with dead bodies. He couldn't make his way any further because of them. Although he tried to move forward, to see their faces, his hands becoming stained with blood from the wheels of his chair._

_"Sheppard!"_

_His head came up and his eyes widened as he stared at Kolya's face. "No!" John whispered. This couldn't be happening. Kolya was dead._

_But he wasn't dead, he was stepping over the bodies, stepping over Weir and Teyla and Rodney's bodies, to get to him. "You did this, Sheppard," Kolya whispered, as he knelt down in front of John. "You killed them all."_

_"NO!" John screamed his denial. Screamed it as he reached out to choke Kolya, only to stare in horror at the blood that slicked his hands. The blood of his friends. _

"John!"

He came awake abruptly, distantly realizing that it had only been a dream. But the bile rising in his throat and gagging him was very real. He felt hands shifting him upright, then something cool was pressed against his chin just in time for him to empty his stomach. It made his head pound and he was grateful when the retching finally ended and he was pressed back into the soft pillows and something cool and wet wiped over his heated face. After a few minutes he was able to open his eyes. "Aperte," John croaked, then he felt a rush of frustration at using the wrong word.

But someone understood him. Teyla. She held a glass of water for him as he took a sip and rinsed his mouth.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carson was asking.

He wanted to tell him the truth, that he felt like shit, but he couldn't find the right words. So he shook his head, whimpering as pain spiked in his temples, then he tried to curl up into a ball. He was cold and aching and frustrated and he wanted to hide from everything and everyone.

He got his wish. John felt a pin prick in his shoulder, then everything faded to black.

OoO

Rodney stared at Carson, who had called a conference in the living room of the quarters he was now sharing with his team. Weir was present as well, and Rodney had a bad feeling about what Carson was going to say. He wasn't wrong.

"I think it would be best if we moved Colonel Sheppard back to the infirmary for a time," Carson announced.

"Why?" It was Teyla who asked, and she looked ready to put up a fight.

Carson sighed, eyed each of them in turn, then replied. "The Colonel is getting worse and he's going to need round the clock care."

Ronon stepped forward, looking determined. Which was a scary look on him. Scary and rather menacing. "We can do whatever needs to be done," he rumbled.

"He needs his vitals checked and medications," Carson began.

"All of which you have here and you've already assigned nurses, and you showed Teyla how to take vitals," Rodney interjected. Because, no way in hell was he letting Carson take John away from them.

Elizabeth waved her hand to cut Rodney off. "Maybe it's for the best, for now," she stated quietly.

Rodney shook his head at her. "It's not. It's just going to make things worse for Sheppard. He's going to feel like he's losing ground." Rodney knew he was speaking the truth, he knew that's how Sheppard would feel, because it was how Rodney was feeling at this moment. If Sheppard went back to the infirmary, it would feel like they had failed somehow. He knew Ronon and Teyla felt the same way. "It's bad enough he's sick now, after everything else he's been through. You can't take him back and make him feel like he's starting over again."

"Rodney is correct." Teyla spoke up when Rodney paused for a breath. "John has suffered much and he has worked hard to get to where he was before becoming ill. To send him back and away from us will make it worse for him. I ask that you let him stay, that you let us take care of him. We can do it."

"I admit, you've been doing well so far," Carson allowed, including them all in his praise. "But there could be complications. And we may need to get him into a cooling bath to reduce his temperature."

Ronon grunted. "And you'll need my help with that anyway, so what's the difference if we do it here or in the infirmary?"

Rodney found himself smiling as the others stepped up to support Sheppard. Not that he expected anything less from them. They were a team, after all. "Sheppard will get better care from us," Rodney declared, shouldering over to Carson to confront him face to face. "We're already keeping vigil over him, so I think we've earned the right to continue taking care of him. I damn well know I've earned that right."

"He has a point," Elizabeth interjected, resignation in her tone as she locked eyes with first Rodney, then Carson. "Unless you think that being here will be detrimental to John's health?"

"No, I don't think that per se," Carson replied. "I just...it's just...well, it's not going to be easy on them."

Ronon rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of Sheppard. "What is easy around here? We want to do it. We want to take care of him."

Carson sighed then nodded. "All right, then. But you're going to have to keep careful watch."

"Like we haven't been doing that already!" Rodney hissed, feeling a bit put out by Carson's comment. He had been watching out for Sheppard since this tragedy had begun, and he was going to see it through till the end. He wasn't walking away until Sheppard was one hundred percent himself again. On the day Sheppard led them back through the gate on a mission, then Rodney would know his work here was done.

"Dr. Beckett?" It was Ann, one of the nurse's assigned to Sheppard. She hovered in the doorway of the living area, looking worried.

Carson went to her immediately. "What's wrong?"

Ann made a face. "His temp is rising, doctor. It's just over 104 now."

"I was afraid of that." Carson slid by her, entering John's room.

The others were close on his heels.

Rodney stared at Sheppard, who was mumbling about being cold as he writhed on the bed, trying to roll up in the blanket. He looked thin and pale and fragile in a way that scared Rodney half to death. Sheppard wasn't supposed to be fragile. He was tough and strong and he could survive anything. A fact Rodney clung to in this moment.

Carson frowned as he turned to Ronon. "I'm going to get the tub running, then I'll need you to help me strip him and put him into the water. We don't want the water too cold, but it'll still be uncomfortable. You'll have to hold him in; he's not going to want to stay on his own."

Ronon looked grim but determined. "I'll do whatever it takes," he promised.

Rodney had moved to John's side and he reached out and gripped the thin shoulder, feeling the heat that emanated from Sheppard's skin even through the gown he was wearing. "You're going to beat this," he whispered, fiercely. "You'll beat this, Sheppard!" Rodney wouldn't accept anything less.

OoO

Sheppard did beat the fever, but it took two days of hell to get him through it. Two days of cooling him off with ice packs and cold wipes. Two days of changing the sheets and his gown. Two days of holding him down when he got combative during moments when he hallucinated. But the convulsions were the worst of it.

Rodney didn't sleep much, and neither did the others, which included Elizabeth, Carson and two nurses. But they felt a weary satisfaction when John's temperature finally slid down to 98.8 and stayed there. After two hours of fifteen minute checks, Elizabeth and the nurses left to get some sleep. The others flopped into nearby chairs, watching over Sheppard who finally looked peaceful. They all dozed off until Rodney heard someone call his name. Or, rather, call for Azur. He was out of his chair and over to Sheppard's bedside in an instant, ignoring his body's aches and pains.

"Sheppard?" Rodney was relieved when green-hazel eyes latched onto his face. "You okay?"

"W-wa..wa-ter," John whispered, the single word exhausting him. But he stayed awake long enough to take a sip and to have Carson fuss over him when Rodney called for the Doc.

Carson looked satisfied when he'd finished. "Get some sleep, Colonel," he said, patting Sheppard on the shoulder. "You're on the mend now."

Rodney watched as Sheppard's eyes closed and his breathing deepened. "Is he really okay now?" he asked, his voice quavering with hope.

"Aye, I believe so," Carson replied. "Which means we can all get some sleep now."

"Should not one of us watch over him?" Teyla queried.

Ronon offered. "I'm a light sleeper," he reminded them.

Rodney was more than willing to take him up on it. He was so tired he was swaying on his feet. "I'll be over there if you need me," he stated, pointing to the couch in the corner. He stumbled over to it, did a face plant, and let himself drift into a welcome darkness. Where he dreamed about beating Sheppard in chess, four games in a row.

OoO

Music woke him up. The sound of singing. A soft and melodious string of words that echoed in his head. He knew the voice.

Opening his eyes, John turned his head towards the sound and saw Teyla sitting next to his bed. Her eyes were closed as she sang, but she must have sensed his eyes on her, because she fell silent and was suddenly looking back at him.

"John, how are you feeling?" she queried, as she rose and moved to his side.

He had to search for the word, and felt pleased when he found it. "Better," he whispered, but that simple word drained him. Exhaustion washed over John, pulling at him. But he noticed a few things before submitting to the darkness. He was hungry and he had a catheter. He would discuss those issues later though. For now he let darkness claim him.

Only to wake again and learn that another day had passed.

Teyla was still with him, smiling warmly. She offered him a sip of water, holding the cup when John's hand shook too much to keep it steady. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better." It was easier to remember the word this time. And it was the truth. He did feel better. Worn out, but not achy and chilled, or too hot. What he did feel was gritty. "Shower?" He turned it into a question that had more than a bit of pleading in it.

"Carson will not allow it right now," Teyla replied, looking apologetic. "But I can wash you a bit." She made the offer without a hint of shyness.

John blushed enough for the both of them. He felt stiff and gritty and dirty. He hated the invasive tubes, hated how damp the sheets felt against his skin. He needed to be clean. "Please?" It was out and out begging and he didn't care.

Then, before Teyla could respond, the room was filled with people. It was easier for him to remember their names this time. John stared at each in turn as Ronon, Rodney and Carson surrounded his bed.

"He wants to take a shower," Teyla explained to Beckett.

"I see." Carson made a face, then bent over John. "I'm afraid you're not strong enough for that, son. Not yet. Maybe a bath tomorrow."

But John couldn't let it go. He felt like his skin was crawling and he hurt and he just wanted to be clean. "Please, a heili," he begged, mixing up his languages and not caring.

Rodney was listening intently, and he tapped Carson on the arm. "He aches," he translated for John. "Wouldn't a hot bath be therapeutic for that? I realize I'm no doctor but..."

"He's not strong enough, Rodney!" Carson protested.

"I could help him," Ronon interjected.

John looked from Rodney, to Ronon, to Carson. He would let Ronon manhandle him like a baby if it would get him his bath.

Carson glared at them all, then let his shoulders slump in defeat. "All right, if the Colonel doesn't mind the help."

"Don't mind," John whispered, when Carson's eyes locked on his face.

"Fine, then I'll remove the tubing," Carson stated. "The rest of you need to clear out for a few minutes."

John was glad to hear that. He hated how invasive all the stuff connected to him felt. He closed his eyes and even drifted off a bit as the IV and catheter were removed. He came back to himself when he felt strong arms lifting him.

Ronon lifted John with ease, cradling him against his chest and grinning. "Teyla ran your water. You ready?"

"Ready," John echoed. He felt a bit embarrassed being carried, especially since Ronon did it with such ease, but he blocked out the feeling. He didn't' even protest being stripped by Ronon, nor being settled into the steamy hot water. It felt like bliss. He was able to get most of his body washed before his arms gave out. When big hands washed his hair, John found himself relaxing into the ministrations. Just this once. He didn't like this, but he knew it couldn't be helped.

"You'll be stronger soon," Ronon stated, as he rinsed. "For now, it's okay to let us help you."

John knew that, but it was nice to hear. "How …sick?" he asked, not sure of the other words.

But Ronon understood what he was asking. "Very sick. You were out of it for a few days, and hallucinating and at one point you went into something called convulsions. Everyone was worried. But I knew you'd make it. You're tougher than you look." Ronon was grinning as he said that.

"Thanks." John found himself grinning back, before letting his eyes drift closed. Then Ronon was lifting him out, drying him off, and he was blessedly being dressed in scrubs. Stubbornly, he insisted on trying to walk out the door, but only managed two steps before his knees buckled. But at least it was a start.

A moment later John found himself gently settled onto clean, fresh, sheets. He felt one hundred percent better. The water had made him feel cleaner and less achy, the hot water having leeched away some of his stiffness. Then Carson was fussing over him, Rodney was pushing him to take a few sips of soup. Teyla was asking if he needed anything and Ronon was standing close by keeping watch.

John ended up falling asleep, drifting into dreams.

Atlantis woke him from his dreams and he was grateful to her. He had been dreaming about things that felt familiar, but he knew they weren't his memories and it made him feel something of a voyeur. But as he came more awake, he realized his heart was thudding hard in his chest and that he felt pain. Not his pain, though. A deeper pain, sharp and cold and aching.

"Lantis..." he whispered. She was in agony. He didn't know how to help her. He tried to connect to her but she pushed at him, wanting to keep him away. He didn't understand why, but he knew he needed to help her somehow.

Pushing aside the covers, John started to slide out of bed when hands gripped his arms and pushed him back.

Rodney was hovering over him. "What's wrong, Sheppard?"

"Lantis," he repeated. "Alevia, Azur."

"Hurt?" Rodney echoed in English. "What do you mean?"

John wanted to scream in frustration because he didn't have the words to explain. Not that it mattered in this moment, because Atlantis suddenly screamed in his head, and it was his own cry that pierced his ear drums a heartbeat later.

**THE END...of part 20**


	21. Chapter 21

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 21**

Rodney was relieved to hear Teyla and Ronon run into the bedroom as he tried to hold down Sheppard. The pilot was thrashing around violently, yelling loudly as he struggled to get out of bed.

"Help me hold him and call Carson," Rodney shouted to the pair. In a heartbeat, Ronon appeared on the other side of the bed reaching for John and he could hear Teyla calling Beckett behind him.

When they had John pinned to the bed so that he couldn't move, the struggles lessened. Wild, terrified eyes looked up at them. "Lantis alevia, egomae necessitas adjuvare eam."

"What?" asked Ronon, glancing at Rodney.

"He said Atlantis hurts and he needs to help her," translated Rodney. Moving his face closer to John's, Rodney made sure John was looking at him. "Sheppard, what's wrong with Atlantis? What hurts?"

John squeezed his eyes shut at the sharp pain that stabbed into both temples, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. His body shuddered as a wave of fire ran through his head and down his spine. Atlantis was screaming so loud in his head that his already scrambled thoughts were even more frayed. He focused on shutting out the pain and concentrated on tracking what was wrong with Atlantis.

"Colonel, can you hear me at all?" asked Rodney frantically when Sheppard didn't respond to his earlier questions. He flinched back a little when John's eyes snapped open.

"Sella . . . " John focused on choosing his words. "Chair . . . need to . . . get to . . . the chair . . . help Atlantis."

Rodney was about to reply when Carson rushed into the room with a nurse. "What's happened?" he asked, taking Ronon's place at the side of the bed. Rodney realized that John had stopped fighting them, so he let the man's arms go and backed up.

"He said there's something wrong with Atlantis, that she's in pain, and he needs to go to the chair to help her," explained Rodney. He looked down at John to realize for the first time he was covered with sweat and panting. His face was drawn tight, but whether from fear or pain, Rodney wasn't sure.

"Colonel, are you in pain?" asked Carson as he got out his stethoscope.

"I need to adjuvare Lantis. Necessitas the sella." John tried to sit up again, only to have Carson and Rodney push him back.

"Just a second, son," said Carson as he slid the stethoscope under John's shirt.

Rodney's radio crackled in his ear. _"Rodney, we need you in the control room,"_ said Elizabeth. _"We've lost all gate functions, including the shield, and systems are going off all over the city."_

As if to emphasize her words, the lights in the room flickered and went off, coming back on a few seconds later. "On my way. You should know that Sheppard is having some sort of episode and he's insisting that Atlantis is in pain."

"_Does he know what's causing it?"_

Rodney looked down at the pale face, scrunched in pain and dark eyes boring into him. "I don't know, but he's insisting on going to the chair to help her."

"_Let him. It's getting worse by the minute and we have no protection with all shield capabilities down."_

Carson shook his head, keying his own radio. "Negative, Elizabeth. The Colonel's in pain and too weak to even stand. I don't know how he could help."

"Wheelchair," whispered John. "Please." He could feel the chaos growing inside Atlantis and knew there would be limited time in which he could help. If they waited too long, her systems would be so unraveled he wouldn't be able to fix her. He was furious to know what he needed to say and not be able to find the words to say it.

Carson looked at his patient for a few seconds before sighing. "All right, but I go with him."

John nodded and began trying to sit up again. Carson took his arm and pulled him upright while Rodney gave the information to Elizabeth. By the time John was on his feet, Ronon had returned with the wheelchair and helped settle him in it.

Rodney kneeled in front of John. "I'm going to the control room to see what's going on from there. I'll send Radek to the chair room to monitor. Let us know what's going on if you can and don't do anything stupid, like get your brain fried."

John nodded, reaching out a shaky hand to take Rodney's wrist in a surprisingly weak grip. "Help her."

Rodney smiled and nodded. "I will." He stood and headed for the door, calling to the others behind him. "You better not let him get himself killed or you'll answer to me."

"Well, I'm scared," Ronon deadpanned as he began pushing the wheelchair.

oOo

John was highly annoyed when Ronon scooped him up from the wheelchair like a child and set him in the control chair. He grunted to show his displeasure with the situation, but was unable to do much else, which only served to frustrate him more. He reached out to Atlantis and almost immediately cried out at the rush of agony that coursed through his whole body. It caught him off guard and seemed to suck the breath from his lungs.

"Colonel?" The edge of panic in Carson's voice caught John's attention as he pushed the pain away and focused on getting to Atlantis. He was peripherally aware of hands on him and he batted them away.

"No . . . stop . . . I'm 'kay." He shut them out as he concentrated on reaching Atlantis and finding out what was wrong. His body shuddered with the strain of pushing through the pain while trying to make his muddled brain actually work correctly. He knew the pain he was feeling was hers and he was almost desperate to find the cause and stop it.

Ronon, Teyla, and Carson stood around the chair, watching John and wincing every time his back arched up and off the chair. His fingers seemed to clutch at the gel pads underneath his hands. Every few minutes he would groan and suck in a deep breath, as if a wave of pain had suddenly caught him unprepared.

The lights in the room flickered and went out, plunging them in near darkness. The light from the chair pedestal also flickered, but remained on. John's body jerked and he cried out when the lights went down, causing Carson to grab his wrist.

"Colonel, I think you should stop now."

John took a deep breath and his eyes opened a small slit. "Found it. Tell . . . Rodney . . . Dr. Wang . . . loaded . . . virus . . . working on . . . ruinosum."

Radek looked at the computer screen in front of him and clicked his radio. "Rodney, it is Radek. Colonel Sheppard says problem is virus loaded by Dr. Wang, but that he is working on . . . ruinosum. That is repairs, correct?"

"_Yes, yes, repairs. It's about time. Dr. Wang . . . isn't he that new chemist that came over with the last batch on the Daedalus? How does Sheppard know it's him? Never mind, we can worry about that later. I'll tell Elizabeth so she can send the troops after him. I'll monitor from here, but let me know if you need anything done from this end."_

"That is good. I must go to help the Colonel now." Radek went back to his computer and studied the screen a moment before beginning to type.

John closed his eyes again so he could concentrate on stripping out the virus and repairing the systems that were down. It took him a long time to track down all the remnants that had spread far and wide through the city. By the time they were cleaned out, he was exhausted, but there was still a lot of work to be done. Atlantis was better, however, and finally able to help with the repair efforts. By the time they were finished, his head felt like his brain had swollen and was literally crammed into his skull.

Carson looked up from his position sitting on the floor beside the chair platform to see Elizabeth come through the door. He got to his feet and joined Teyla and Ronon just as the lights in the room came back on. The three of them extinguished their flashlights.

Elizabeth's eyes strayed over to John, looking very frail and sickly in the chair, his mouth moving silently as if he was talking to himself. "How's he doing?"

Carson shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. He's been at it almost three hours now and he won't quit. I think he's getting weaker. We need to get him out of there and soon."

Elizabeth pursed her lips a second. "Rodney thinks he's almost done. He's removed all traces of the virus, at least as far as Rodney can tell, and most of the systems have come back on line."

Radek looked up from the computer screen. "Rodney is correct, he is almost done. What he has done is . . . amazing. It would have taken Rodney and I . . . possibly days to do from computer stations. By then, virus would have done irreparable damage."

Elizabeth nodded. "That's pretty close to what Rodney said."

"Even when he is ill, John takes care of the city and everyone in it," said Teyla.

Elizabeth grinned at her and walked over to John, reaching out to brush the hair from his forehead. "It's what he does. I guess it always will be."

John's eyes fluttered before opening, squinting immediately against the light. Elizabeth put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over closer. "Hey, how are you doing?"

John blinked slowly and smiled. "Lantis undique rectrusa."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, Atlantis is all right now, thanks to you."

John took a deep, shuddering breath. "Tired," he said quietly as his eyes slid shut and the chair powered down. Carson was on him immediately, checking his pulse and blood pressure. After several minutes, he turned back to the others.

"Well?" asked Elizabeth.

"I think he may just be sleeping, but I won't know for sure until I run some tests. We'll need to call for a gurney."

"You're taking him to the infirmary?" asked Ronon gruffly, thinking of all they had been through to keep him out of there.

Carson sighed, not looking forward to the fight that was coming. "Aye, at least for a bit. I need to run some tests and possibly monitor him for a while. As soon as I know he's all right, I'll move him back to your suite."

Ronon frowned, as did Teyla, but they each took a look at John and didn't argue any more. Radek shut down his computer and joined them, glancing at John. "Colonel must be exhausted. I think what he did was hard and he seemed to be in much pain."

Carson nodded. "That's another reason I want to be careful. I'm not sure what was causing the pain, whether Atlantis's pain was just being transferred to him or whether the virus was somehow affecting him through the connection. If the latter was the case, it may have caused him harm, especially with his brain having already gone through a recent trauma."

Teyla placed one hand on Carson's arm, her dark eyes locking onto his. "We understand. We want John to be safe as well, so do what you must."

"Thank you, lass. I'll take good care of him."

The clattering of a gurney being wheeled into the room drew their attention. A minute later, John had been loaded onto the stretcher and was being wheeled out. Rodney reached the door in time to see the Colonel wheeled by. Carson came up behind him as he watched the gurney travel down the hall.

"Did you get everything fixed?" asked Carson.

Rodney turned to face the doctor, the other people flowing out of the room to stand behind him. "I think so. Chuck is making a few finishing adjustments to the gate controls. Is Sheppard all right?"

"That's what I'm on my way to find out." Carson walked past Rodney to follow his patient.

oOo

John opened his eyes to a fuzzy world of haze. Blinking several times, he finally brought the room into focus. He lay there, staring at the ceiling and trying to get his mind out of neutral and moving forward. Looking around, he discovered he was in his room of the suite, which he found surprising since he was dressed in a gown and had both an IV and a catheter. The room was empty and quiet and he found that unsettling. They would not have left him alone in this state.

"Hey," he tried to call out, but the rough groan he heard didn't sound much like what he had intended. It had the desired results though. Teyla came rushing through the door, a smile instantly spreading across her face when she saw he was awake. She tapped her radio as she walked.

"Dr. Beckett, John is awake."

John felt a smile pulling at his lips, her obvious relief making him feel good. She immediately went about helping him sit up so she could pile a couple of pillows behind him and then settled him back against them. She then poured him some water from a pitcher and helped him sip some, obviously reading his mind about desperately needing a drink. Then she settled on the edge of the bed.

"I am very glad to see you awake. How do you feel?"

John cleared what seemed like a ton of mucous from his throat before even trying to speak. "How long?" The events had slowly been trickling back to him and he knew he'd passed out in the chair.

"Three days." Teyla reached out to grasp John's arm, her expression sobering. "We were very worried. Now, you did not answer my question. How do you feel?"

John gave a small snort. "Good, just a little tired. Is Atlantis . . . okay?"

Teyla smiled again and nodded. "Yes, she is fine. Rodney and Dr. Zelenka have been able to get everything back on line. He said you were able to isolate Dr. Wang's computer as the source of the virus. Colonel Caldwell questioned him for several hours yesterday until he finally confessed."

"Trust?" asked John.

Teyla nodded, her eyes growing dark.

John suddenly looked up. "Caldwell?"

"Yes, the _Daedalus _arrived two days ago."

John sighed and closed his eyes. He hadn't even realized they were on the way. He thought about how much time he'd lost, with his brains scrambled so badly he had a hard time knowing who he was most of the time. Connecting with Atlantis had hurt more than anything he remembered in a long time, and yet he relished the feeling that he was helping, doing something that needed to be done.

John jumped when Carson came bustling through the door. "Colonel, it's good to see your eyes without having to pry your lids open. Let's just have a look at you." Teyla stood up so Carson could take her place. John did a small eye roll when Carson began taking his vital signs, prompting a smile and a warning look from Teyla.

"Colonel, I need to know how you feel and if anything hurts," said Carson when he was finished.

"Headache . . . but not bad. A little tired." John furrowed his brow a bit as if thinking. "Think my mind seems clearer. Not so . . . confused."

Carson tilted his head a bit. "Hmm. Maybe the concentration it took to work with Atlantis helped. I have no idea."

John motioned to the room. "Surprised to be here . . . and not infirmary."

Carson chuckled. "Well, you started out in the infirmary so I could keep an eye on you. Your pressure was low and your blood chemistry and EEG were a mess. But once they stabilized, your little support group insisted that you be brought back here."

John grinned and nodded. "They . . . watch my back."

"Indeed they do, Colonel. Everything looks good right now. I think the sleep has done you a lot of good, you were completely exhausted."

John looked down at the IV port and lifted his hand a bit. "Can I get rid of this . . . and other things?" he added, nodding down.

Carson nodded. "Well, now that you're awake, I think we can do that. And then we can get you something to eat."

Teyla stepped back up to the bed. "I could go get John some broth, and maybe some Jell-o."

Carson nodded. "Aye, lass, that would be good, thank you. While you're gone, I'll just get things . . . unhooked."

John flushed slightly as Teyla smiled at him and left. Then he looked back at Carson. "So, shower?"

Carson laughed out loud as he stood to get what he needed from the shelf of materials they had stocked in John's room. "Colonel, some things never change. Son, you're so weak you probably can't even stand up. You can barely sit up."

John grimaced and fiddled with the edge of the covers. His gown felt sweaty and he was pretty sure the soured body odor smell was him. "Is that a yes?"

Carson sighed and stood looking at him for a moment. It reminded him of the way his father used to look at him when he asked if he could do something like borrow his parachute to jump out of a tree. He tensed, waiting on the no.

"Let me get some reinforcements and we'll see what we can do."

Fortunately, Carson was not much like his father.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 22**

John got his shower, but it cost him. Ronon pretty much held him and washed him, which John dealt with because he was desperate to be clean. But by the time the Satedan had also dried him off and dressed him in a soft t-shirt and sweat pants, then picked him up and carried him back to bed, John was thoroughly disgruntled. Not even the soft, clean, sheets and fluffed up pillows could distract him.

Teyla seemed to understand, at a glance, what was wrong. "You must accept that you are weak, John," she said, in quiet admonition, as she ruffled his hair.

Which he knew, but it didn't make him any less angry at said weakness. "Tired of being weak," he mumbled, his eyelids heavily drooping. He was tired to the bone, but still he fought against it. He was tired of feeling like he had no control over himself any longer.

"You'll get stronger, Colonel," Carson interjected, as he gave John a quick once over. "Do you think you can stay awake long enough to eat a little more?"

"Later," John slurred, his eyes sealed shut now. Then he was drifting away on warm darkness, Atlantis soothing his way into slumber.

OoO

The next two days were spent, mostly sleeping. During waking moments, John would stumble to the bathroom, with Ronon's arm around him, then try and suck down some broth. Mostly, he just wanted to sleep. Atlantis showed him moments and images from her past, and he showed her things as well. The beauty of it being that, this time, John knew the difference in the memories. He knew which ones were his alone, and he knew he had Atlantis to thank for that. She assured him that his presence was thanks enough.

Atlantis hummed to John in a way that soothed him, and he was reluctant to leave the serenity of his slumber, but a different kind of humming rang in his ears like the annoying buzz of a mosquito. It took some time for John to realize that he knew the tuneless melody being loudly hummed close by, and he knew who was making the noise. "Rodney..." John mumbled, because his tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth.

"What?" Rodney snapped, without thinking, only to realize it was John speaking. He set aside his laptop and was by the bed in an instant. "Are you okay? Do you need Carson? Water? Bathroom?"

"Mission Impossible theme?" John questioned, slitting open his eyes and trying to smirk. He must have been somewhat successful, because Rodney made a face at him.

With a dramatic eyeroll and a fingershaking, Rodney expounded on the beauty of the Mission Impossible theme song. "Of course, the series was much better than the movies," he firmly stated.

John nodded, tried to respond, but coughed instead.

"Here, have a sip." Rodney was holding out a glass of water.

The sip helped, as did draining half the glass once the coughing stopped. Then John was pushing up against the pillows, surprised when Rodney leaned in to help him get settled. "Thank you," John replied, his voice stronger now.

Rodney shrugged. "That's what I live for," he deadpanned.

"Then your life is...complete," John shot back, with only a moment's hesitation to search for the right word. He felt proud of himself when Rodney chuckled. He felt proud and...normal. This felt normal.

"You look better," Rodney said, after they grinned at each other before falling into a awkward silence that he seemed determined to fill.

John considered. "Feel better," he allowed. The exhaustion of before had been sloughed away by three days of sleeping. He still felt weak, but he could lie to himself and say that was only because he hadn't eaten much during that time.

Rodney looked relieved. "I should probably call Carson. He made us all promise to contact him the moment you woke up long enough to say a complete sentence." As he spoke he tapped his ear piece. A moment later he confirmed that Carson was on his way.

"I need to use the bathroom." John was pleased when the sentence really did come out complete, and without hesitation.

"I should call Ronon to help you," Rodney said, reaching for his ear piece again.

John wanted to stop him, but he figured it would be better to have Ronon's help than fall on his face, and just shoving back the covers and trying to slide his legs off the side of the bed, set off fine tremors throughout his body. It really sucked being weak.

Ronon appeared, almost like magic, then he was lifting John and they were on their way. John did what needed to be done, washed his hands, splashed cold water on his face then tried to walk to the door. He stumbled and caught himself on the counter. Ronon, with his cat-like hearing, was in the room and supporting him a heartbeat later. John did manage to walk to the bed, but he was happy to stretch out when he got there.

To find Carson waiting for him, worry etching lines on his face. Deep lines. "How are you feeling, son?" he asked, as he reached for John's wrist.

"Better," John said firmly, offering a smile. He felt bad to realize that everyone looked older and more weary than he remembered. Then it hit him that he had been ill for a long time. But they had all stood by him. He owed them more than he could ever repay. "I...I'm sorry," he whispered, dropping his eyes to his hands, and letting Carson push him forward so he could press his stethoscope to John's back.

"Sorry for what?" Ronon queried, looking confused.

John was pushed back against the pillows as Carson finished his exam. "Sorry for being a burden." There was more he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. Not that he was confusing them now, but he wasn't one for declarations from the heart, so he was simply at a loss for how to continue. How could he explain to them how grateful he was for all they had done for him. For never giving up on him. For not leaving him behind.

Teyla seemed to get it. She had been hovering in the background, but now she stepped forward and perched beside John on the bed. "There is nothing for you to be sorry for, John. We have all been a burden to each other in some way, and we will all be again. You are family, and we take care of our own."

Her message got through to him, and she said it much better than he ever could. "Thanks," John said softly, lifting his head and making eye contact with everyone. He lingered on Rodney's face. He remembered Rodney being with him, helping him. It was foggy and John wanted to talk to him about what had happened from start to finish. He wanted to know, and understand, everything that had happened to him.

"The Colonel needs to eat and rest," Carson loudly interjected.

"I'm tired of resting," John protested, indignantly.

Carson tutted at him. "Doctor's orders, Colonel. Teyla brought some soup and toast, and after you're done eating I want you to take a nap."

John considered arguing with him, but held his tongue. He would eat what he could, but he wasn't going to nap. Not for a while anyway. Not until he had talked to Rodney.

"Eat up and get stronger, Sheppard," Ronon stated, giving John's shoulder a pat. "We need to get you back into running and sparring."

"You just miss kicking my butt," John replied, a smile curving his lips. He felt hopeful at Ronon's comment, and it was nice to see that same hope on the Satedan's face. For the first time in what felt like forever, John believed he would get better.

Ronon's grin threatened to split his face. "I miss a lot of things we did," he confessed. "Like going through the gate."

John missed that too. "Soon," he promised, and it was a promise he was going to keep.

"Hold you to it," Ronon replied, before heading out the door.

Teyla said her goodbyes, with a promise to come back and read to him.

Which left Carson and Rodney. John looked at Carson. The good Doc was eyeing him intently. "What?" John countered defensively, because he was beginning to feel like he had done something wrong. Only he hadn't been awake long enough to get into trouble.

"I'm leaving you in Rodney's hands," Carson stated. "I have some lab work that needs catching up on. I want you to be good, Colonel. Understood?"

"Got it," John replied, and it gave him a bit of a thrill to realize that the words were coming easily to him now.

Carson looked pleased, as he grabbed a lap tray and settled it over John. "Eat up then, and I'll check on you soon." With that he was gone.

John reached for a piece of toast, hating the way his hand shook. It was a piece of toast but it felt as heavy as a large rock and he fumbled it, cursing softly.

"Carson said your motor functions would probably take longer to come back than verbal functions," Rodney piped up, as he dragged a chair over to the bed. "Looks like he was right. Your speech has improved tenfold."

"I'm just weak," John argued, although he knew that was only part of it. Appetite gone, he shoved the tray down his legs, knowing he didn't have the strength to lift it.

Rodney took it away without comment. He then sat in the chair and stared at John.

Who stared back, defiantly.

Rodney broke the silence. "Your muscles have atrophied and you'll have intense physical therapy to help them get stronger. You'll get there, Sheppard."

"No one noticed I was talking better," John shot back, feeling suddenly petulant about everything. Which was stupid of him, but he couldn't seem t help it.

"We all noticed," Rodney replied, looking aggrieved. "But Carson explained how you were better after the connection and that Atlantis probably helped you heal in that regard. She can help your brain, but not your body. You have to be patient about that part."

John sighed. "Patience isn't one of my...virtues." It shook him that he suddenly had to search his mind for the word.

Rodney glared at him, as if reading John's mind. "Don't freak out! We've all suffered enough freak outs all around to last a life time. You're tired, Sheppard. Take a damn nap!"

It was on the tip of John's tongue to argue, but instead he whispered, "Selia alma." Thank you. He could tell Rodney got the message. Then Atlantis was humming again and John drifted off to sleep.

OoO

His recovery during the next three days, in some way, was truly remarkable. Sorting everything out in his head still took some effort, but he could say everything he wanted to say, and in English, without hesitation now. That made him very happy. However, his physical recovery seemed to be going in slow motion.

John knew he had to be realistic. He knew he was weak from not eating and from being bed ridden for such a long period of time. But he didn't have the patience to wait. Eating was a chore. Nothing tasted good to him and he was heartily sick of soup and toast and oatmeal, which was pretty much all Beckett would let him eat. So he tended not to eat, to the point where Ronon was now threatening to hold him down while Teyla poured the soup down his throat. Breakfast this morning had not been pleasant.

That he still couldn't shower on his own wasn't helping. Rodney had suggested a bath, which allowed John to handle it himself more, which had helped. A little. But then his legs had given out when he was getting dressed and Ronon ended up carrying him back to bed. The frustration John felt was overwhelming, and stressful, and it was giving him one humdinger of a headache. It was also making it hard for him to think clearly. To the point of cursing in Ancient, when his attempt to grab the book Teyla had been reading to him, which was on the table across the room, had ended with him collapsing on the floor halfway there.

Rodney was the one who found him. First he was scared to death as he crouched beside John, asking if he was okay. But then he was snorting as he tried not to laugh. "Ancient curses are more colorful than American ones," Rodney stated.

"Alleaia!" John snapped, only to realize he'd spoken in Ancient. So he amended himself. "Leave!"

"Right." Rodney was not impressed by John's anger. "Are you hurt? And why are you on the floor? Bathroom? Did you need the bathroom?"

John felt himself flushing a bit. It got embarrassing having to ask for an escort every time he needed the facilities. Especially when it was usually Ronon who took him, and most of the time had to carry him back. "No, I don't have to pee!" He stated, baldly. "I wanted my book!" He was frustrated to the point of not being able to control his anger, despite the fact that his head was pounding. And, no doubt the pain was making him all the more cranky.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I was in the next room. Next time ask me to get it for you."

"I didn't feel like listening to you bitch about it!" John countered, cringing inwardly. It was like he couldn't make his mouth shut itself. He was saying things he didn't really mean.

"So you'd rather be stuck lying on the floor?" Rodney grabbed John under the arm pits and grunted as he hauled him upright. Which actually didn't take as much effort as it should have, and Rodney commented on that. "You really need to start eating. I know I've always teased you about being scrawny, but this is ridiculous. I think Teyla weighs more than you do now."

Which was not the right thing for him to say at the moment. John made an attempt to pull away from Rodney, which resulted in both of them hitting the floor. John winced as his hipbone hit hard, but he almost forgot the pain when Rodney cried out. Rolling over with difficulty, John looked at his friend. "What's wrong?"

Rodney's face was pale and he was biting his lower lip. "It's my ankle. I twisted it when I fell."

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry, Rodney! I didn't mean for you to be hurt!" The words tumbled out of John, even as he tried to look at Rodney's ankle.

"Leave it alone!" Rodney snapped. "You've done enough damage!"

His words hit John like a slap in the face, because they were true. Rodney had done nothing but help him through everything, and this was how he paid him back. Ignoring the pain in his head, which felt like hot knives stabbing into his temples, along with the pain in his hip, John scooted away from Rodney until he found a corner. He stuffed himself into it as he watched McKay radio for Carson.

Letting his head lean against the wall, John reached out to Atlantis. She connected with him, readily, humming softly to him, trying to ease his pain. But the pain John felt now would be slow to heal.

**THE END...of part 22**


	23. Chapter 23

**THE WHITE ROOM - Part 23**

John was barely aware of Carson arriving with a nurse. The doctor went to Rodney, while Amy, the nurse, came to him.

"Colonel, are you all right? Dr. McKay said the two of you fell."

John pulled his arm away from her, pushing back against the wall as much as he could. "Take care of Rodney. I'm okay."

Amy smiled, in spite of the fact that her brow was creased in worry. "At least let me get you back into bed."

"No, don't touch me. Just . . . get away." John closed his eyes against the pain and humiliation. His head thrummed to the beat of his heart, as did the throbbing in his hip, but he didn't want anyone helping him. That's all everyone had been doing for weeks, taking care of poor helpless John. He didn't want anyone fussing or touching him right now. He let Atlantis reach out to him, trying to soothe his frustration and pain.

A sudden touch made him flinch and jerk his eyes open. He must have drifted for a while, because Carson was kneeling in front of him and Teyla stood in the doorway. Ronon and a nurse were getting Rodney settled in a wheelchair while Rodney moaned that his ankle was broken and would never be the same.

"Colonel, we need to get you back into bed and I need you tell me where you're hurt."

John ignored Carson as he watched Ronon wheel Rodney by. The scientist glanced down at him and then looked away quickly, purposefully turning his head toward Teyla. "Hey, Teyla, you missed all the excitement. Sheppard broke my ankle for trying to help him off the floor, so you might want to carry your sticks with you if you plan on staying."

Teyla's mouth dropped a little as she looked at John and then back to Rodney. "I'm sure John did not mean for you to get hurt."

John let his head fall forward so that it rested on his drawn up knees. The voices faded away as Rodney got farther from the room. Rodney was furious with him and who could blame him.

"Colonel, are you injured?"

Without lifting his head, John answered. "No."

He heard Carson sigh. "Good, then we need to get you back in bed."

"Go take care of Rodney. I'll be fine."

"Colonel, I'm not leaving you here in the floor. Now either let me help you up, or we'll wait until Ronon gets back and he can carry you. Your choice."

John lifted his head to look at Carson, studying his expression. After a few seconds, he decided that the doctor looked just annoyed enough to do it. "Fine." Teyla was instantly beside him and worked with Carson to get John to his feet. When he stepped forward, pain shot through his hip and down his leg, making him stumble forward and moan. Carson and Teyla caught his weight and held him up while he regained his footing.

"Not injured, huh. I should have known," Carson murmured.

"Just bruised," argued John. This time the pain wasn't so bad and he was able to limp back to the bed with their help. Once they got him settled, Carson pulled the chair up next to the bed and Teyla left them alone.

"I need to know what hurts."

John scowled at the doctor. "Shouldn't you be helping Rodney? His foot was already turning colors and . . . swelling."

"Aye, and I will as soon as I'm sure you're okay. Amy will see that he gets x-rayed and I can't do anything she can't do until I have them in my hand. The sooner you cooperate with me, the sooner I can get down to him."

John sighed loudly and crossed his arms. "I just bruised my hip when I landed."

Carson insisted on checking. After several minutes of prodding and asking questions, he finally agreed that it was just a nasty bruise and sat back in the chair. "You want to tell me what happened?"

John rubbed his face and closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. "I was stupid. I tried to get my book and fell. When Rodney went to help me up, I yelled and . . . said some things I didn't mean. I tried to get away from him and ended up making us both fall." He opened his eyes at the firm hand on his shoulder.

"I know you're tired and frustrated and you have every right to be. Don't be too hard on yourself. A person can only take so much before they get . . . cranky." Carson smiled. "I think you're there."

John tried to smile back at the doctor. "I appreciate what you're saying, but there really isn't any excuse for the way I treated him. He's been there for me through this whole stupid thing. I wasn't even really mad at _him_ . . . I just . . . took it out on him."

"He knows that. And if he doesn't realize it right now, he will in time. How bad is the headache?"

John narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "How do you do that?"

Carson just smiled smugly. "You've been a patient of mine for a while now and you haven't always made it easy. I've learned to look for things that tell me how you're really doing. And I think that right now you have a humdinger of a headache."

John gave a small nod as he rubbed his head again. "You'd be right about that."

Carson stood and scooted the chair away from the bed. "I'll leave Teyla something to help with both the headache and the hip."

"Doc, let me know how Rodney is, okay?"

"Aye, I'll come later and check on you, make sure you're feeling better."

John let out a slow breath, sinking down in the bed. "Okay . . . thanks, Doc." He watched Carson leave and wondered just how mad Rodney was at him. Sometimes he wished his mouth didn't operate so far ahead of his brain.

oOo

John leaned heavily on Ronon's arm as the Satedan helped him to the couch in the living room. By the time they reached it, John pretty much fell onto the furniture, his wobbly legs refusing to hold him up any longer. His headache was better, but now his hip was throbbing again. Shifting around, he finally got himself comfortable. Teyla set a soda on the table beside him.

"Thanks," he said, letting his aching body sink into the soft cushions. It had been several hours since his and Rodney's tumble and he was beginning to get stiff and sore.

The door to the suite opened and Elizabeth came in carrying a tray covered with plastic wrap. "I've got sandwiches."

John watched the door close and then shifted his gaze to Elizabeth. "Where's Rodney? Carson should have his ankle fixed by now."

Elizabeth set the tray down on the makeshift coffee table and then sat beside John. "He's not coming."

"Is he okay?" asked Ronon.

Elizabeth looked at Ronon a second and nodded before returning her eyes to John. "His ankle is broken. Carson has ice on it and is keeping it elevated until the swelling goes down some and he can put a cast on it."

John swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "It's my fault."

"John, it was an accident. You didn't mean for this to happen."

John pulled away when she tried to take his hand. "No, I was acting like a spoiled kid. I had a temper tantrum and Rodney paid the price. After everything he's done and the way he stuck by me, this is how I show my gratitude."

He bowed his head, embarrassed by the way he had treated Rodney and horrified by the fact that he had caused his friend to be injured. A broken ankle would keep Rodney hobbling around for weeks, and even then it would give him problems for a while after. It always seemed to take forever for that kind of injury to completely heal. Not to mention the pain involved.

"I want to go back to my room," he mumbled. He didn't deserve a movie with friends.

"John, you're sitting right here and watching the movie with us. Rodney will be fine. It's just a broken ankle, not something life-threatening. Carson said it's a simple break and will easily heal as long as Rodney stays off it for a while." Elizabeth patted his arm and nodded for Teyla to start the movie.

John sat in a daze all through the movie. When it was over, he wasn't even sure what they had watched, something about pirates he thought. The whole time he kept replaying what had happened and was repeatedly amazed at how childish and careless he'd been. His friends had given up a lot to make him comfortable here and help him recover and he hadn't really tried to get better. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. That was going to change.

"John?"

John lifted his head from the back of the couch and realized he'd been dozing. Carson was standing in front of him. "How's Rodney?"

"He's fine. I got a cast on his foot and he's resting."

"In the infirmary?" asked John.

Carson sighed and gave a short nod. "Aye. I would have sent him to his room, but he's convinced he'll wake in the night and not be able to move, so I agreed to let him stay in the infirmary tonight. It's a decision I've already begun to regret. When I left, he had my nursing staff running around like his personal servants."

Elizabeth snickered. "That sounds like Rodney. Guess he's feeling like his old self."

"He could stay here with us. Ronon and I could help him," offered Teyla.

Carson let out a slow breath and shook his head. "No, I suggested that, but . . . he didn't like that idea."

John looked up at the doctor. "I need to go see him . . . to apologize for hurting him."

Carson shook his head. "Not tonight. I gave him some pain medication before I left and I'm hoping to find him asleep when I get back. And you've had a hard day as well. I want to make sure your hip still looks all right and then you need to get some sleep. Did you eat?"

"He ate half a sandwich," said Ronon.

"Colonel, you need to eat more than that," said Carson quietly.

John glared at Ronon. "I wasn't aware my food intake was being measured, but I probably should have been. I wasn't hungry."

Carson sighed. "Hungry or not, you've got to start eating."

"Then feed me something with taste, something that's not oatmeal or soup," snapped John.

Carson sat staring at him for a moment before nodding. "All right. You've been suffering with the soft, bland foods for a while. You can have some real breakfast tomorrow and if you eat it, I'll take you to see Rodney in the wheelchair."

John's eyes widened a little. "Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, you have a deal. Just . . . don't let Ronon load up my tray or it'll take me three days to get it all down." John smiled at the Satedan, who gave a sly grin back.

"Don't worry Sheppard, I'll take care of anything you don't eat," said Ronon.

"I'll be here at nine and I expect an honest report. If you've only eaten a half a piece of toast, you aren't going anywhere," said Carson firmly.

John sighed and pursed his lips a second. "I'll eat." _I'll do what I need to do to go apologize to Rodney._

oOo

John felt his stomach clench with nervous fear as the wheelchair approached the infirmary. He was beginning to regret the amount of breakfast he'd eaten, because now it felt like he'd swallowed a big, heavy rock. They turned the corner and Carson headed over to Rodney's bed, where his casted foot sat propped on a pillow.

"I said I wanted a cup of coffee. Hello? Is everyone in this place deaf?" The scientist went silent when he saw his visitor approaching.

Carson parked the wheelchair beside the bed. "Rodney, I told you three times already that you can't have any coffee. If you want coffee, then you'll have to get released and go back to your room."

"I can't believe you're using coffee as a way to get me out of the infirmary. What happened to ethics?"

Carson sighed. "It's not that I think you need the coffee, because I know you don't. But I'm not naïve enough to think you wouldn't have someone sneak you some the second you got back to your quarters. I'm just not letting you do it in front of me. Now pipe down and quit disturbing my real patients. You have a visitor."

"Gee, thanks. Just another way to get rid of me," Rodney said angrily.

"Rodney," snapped Carson. "Give the Colonel a chance." Carson waggled his finger at Rodney before walking away.

"Fine, fine, what do you want? To break my other ankle?"

John winced. "I guess I deserved that. I just . . . I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I was just . . . frustrated and tired . . . and I took it out on you. I didn't really mean anything I said. I was just angry . . . and lashing out." John rubbed his face, working up the courage to say what he'd rehearsed in spite of the fact that his mouth seemed to be rebelling. He hated stuff like this. "Look . . . I'm trying to say . . . I'm sorry . . . for what I said and for hurting you." John took a shaky breath and tried to settle his stomach, watching Rodney for his reaction.

The scientist looked at him for a while, making John squirm in the wheelchair as he wondered if he'd ruined their friendship. "Fine, just don't do it again." The emotionless monotone and the way Rodney turned away made John's stomach turn.

John wasn't sure what to say. "Rodney . . . you're still upset . . . and I don't know what else to do."

Rodney's head snapped around so fast it made John flinch. "What did you expect? Did you think you'd just flash those puppy eyes at me the way you do everyone else and I'd fold like a house of cards? Poor Colonel Sheppard, he's had a hard time. Well, guess what flyboy, some of the rest of us have had a hell-of-a-time as well. You don't see anyone falling all over themselves to help us. Maybe it's time you just suck it up like the soldier you're supposed to be and do something for yourself. Especially since you're so tired of the rest of us and our _bitchin_'." By the time he'd finished, Rodney's face was red and every phrase resulted in spittle being broadcast for several feet in front of him. Everyone in the infirmary had frozen, except Carson, who came speeding out of his office to stand at the foot of the bed.

John sat with his mouth open as Rodney regained his composure, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he lay back against the pillows. John finally closed his mouth and looked up at the scientist, now avoiding his gaze. "You're right, Rodney. I'm . . . sorry." He began fumbling with the wheelchair, trying to unlock the brakes. Carson figured out what he was doing and released them.

"Sit back, Colonel. I'll take you back to your room."

The trip back to the room was quiet, neither man knowing what to say to the other. When they arrived, Carson helped John get settled on the couch. John noticed Teyla and Carson giving each other looks and signals, the doctor trying to clue her in on what had happened without actually speaking. It might have been funny if he hadn't been so depressed.

"Colonel, I have to get back now. Your physical therapy is in one hour, so don't forget. Call me if you need anything." Carson stood awkwardly, looking down at John as he sat staring at the floor. "Rodney's just . . . a little out of sorts right now."

John snorted. "No, Rodney's furious with me . . . and he's right. I've been sitting around feeling sorry for myself and then complaining because I'm not getting better fast enough. I just need to suck it up."

Carson sighed. "Well, that's not entirely true. Although you've had a few self-pity moments during this ordeal, I dare say you were entitled to a few and taken less than most people would, Rodney included."

John didn't say anything, so Carson moved over to stand in front of him. "Don't you go overdoing it just to prove a point. We've been down that road before and it just sets you back in the long run."

John nodded and looked up at the man. "I know, I won't. I need you to tell me some things I can do to get better that won't set me back."

Carson looked thoughtful and then sat down. "Well, let's see . . . "

oOo

Rodney hobbled down the corridor on crutches. Two marines came up quickly behind him and separated, going around him on each side. One of them bumped his arm slightly, throwing his already precarious balance off to one side. "Hey!" Just as he was sure he'd fall, the other marine grabbed his arm and pushed him back upright, hanging on until he had his balance again.

"Sorry, sir, You okay now?" The young blonde man grinned in a way that reminded Rodney of the person he was on his way to see, at least of the way he used to be. A pang of sadness flitted through him.

"Fine, just watch where you're going. This is a hall, not the Indianapolis 600."

"500, sir. It's the Indianapolis 500. We'll be more careful, sir." The young soldier hurried off to catch his friend, who was now at the end of the corridor.

"This was such a bad idea." He started slowly forward, concentrating on not falling. His arms and shoulders ached abominably from using the crutches, but he'd put this off long enough.

Sheppard had come to see him in the infirmary a week ago to apologize. He'd still been angry then and had virtually ripped the man a new one for his efforts. He'd made no effort to see or talk to him since and John hadn't come back, not that he blamed him. It had taken a few days, but he'd finally realized that he wasn't really mad at Sheppard. Well, he had been at first. But mostly he had been mad at the extended nature of the situation. They had taken forever to find a way to help the man and he'd suffered immeasurably in the mean time. Even then, his recovery was slow and frustrating. The disabling nature of what had been done to the Colonel had to be infuriating for someone normally so active and involved. And none of what was done was Sheppard's fault. They had picked him because of the stupid gene.

Even after he decided he needed to talk to Sheppard and try to make things right, he'd hesitated. His pride resisted going to the colonel and admitting he'd been wrong to throw the man's apology in his face. Sheppard hadn't meant for him to get hurt. He was just reacting to the latest in a long line of humiliating circumstances. He didn't deserve any of this mess and yet he had to live with the consequences.

Rodney was a little surprised to find himself just outside the suite. He wasn't sure if he should knock or not, but decided to plow on in. The door slid open to reveal Sheppard sitting on the couch playing a video game and Teyla with the other controller watching. They both looked up when he entered, surprise on their faces. Then Teyla smiled and got to her feet, coming over to greet him.

"Rodney, I'm so glad you are here. Come and sit down. I know you are tired after walking so far on the crutches." She fussed, leading him over to the couch to sit by John and then taking his crutches to stand in the corner, out of the way. "Would you like something to drink?"

Rodney shifted nervously. "Uh, yeah, a Coke would be nice."

Teyla fetched one from the refrigerator as Sheppard ignored him and continued playing the game. "There you are," she said, placing an open can on the table beside the couch. "I must see to something. I'll be back in a few minutes." She left the room to go back to her bedroom, leaving the two men alone.

John's man died about the time she walked out. He set the controller down and looked around at Rodney. "Uh, hey. How's the ankle?" John looked down at the cast, noticing it had several signatures on it.

"It's okay."

John nodded. "Do you need a pillow or something to prop it up with?"

"No, I'm fine."

John nodded again as they sat in awkward silence.

Rodney motioned to the controller. "Video games, huh."

"Yeah, Carson said it would help improve eye to hand . . . coordination and . . . concentration."

Rodney nodded. "I can see that. So, how's that going?"

John snorted. "So far I've just been killed a lot . . . a whole lot."

Rodney grinned, chuckling a little. "Same as usual, right?" He was relieved when John smiled back. They sat for a few more seconds while Rodney's insides trembled. He finally took a deep breath. "Look . . . when you came to the infirmary last week . . . I was . . ."

"Mad?" John offered.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess. But I think I wasn't so much mad at you as . . . just stuff, you know?"

John rolled his bottom lip in for a second, looking much like he always did. "I know. That's kind of what happened with me when I made you fall."

They sat in silence for a few more seconds, neither knowing if anything else needed to be said. Rodney finally looked up at John. "So, are we okay?"

John smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we're okay."

Rodney breathed out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness. I don't think I could have taken any more of that."

John grinned and began pushing himself to his feet. "Okay, watch this." Once he was on his feet, he slowly and carefully walked the few steps to the kitchen. Opening the small refrigerator, he took out a bottle of juice and poured some into a cup. When he was finished, he returned the bottle and picked up the cup. Rodney could see the fierce determination on his face as he concentrated on walking to the couch with the half full cup without spilling any juice. He carefully sat down and took a sip of the juice, looking up at Rodney proudly. "Didn't spill a drop."

Rodney gaped at him in awe, not thinking about how mundane the task would have seemed a few months ago. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Since yesterday," said John. "I decided to take your advice and suck it up. I gained almost two pounds this week."

Rodney laughed. "I'll tell Carson to keep an eye on you so you don't get fat."

John laughed out loud and Rodney thought maybe that was the nicest sound he'd heard in a long time. He noticed Teyla watching from the edge of the room, a large grin on her face. She gave him a nod and he nodded back. From the look on her face, she was enjoying it just as much as he was.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

**THE WHITE ROOM...part 24**

Three weeks passed by, slowly, at least as far as John was concerned. But, to the good, they were productive weeks. He gained some weight and he worked hard at his therapy so that his motor coordination greatly improved, as did his body and muscle strength. Sure, he wasn't about to go running with Ronon anytime soon, but he could stroll about Atlantis for longer than five minutes without needing a nap. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give John hope.

Then Lorne ended up giving John an incentive, without even realizing what he was doing.

Elizabeth was sending Lorne's team to MRX-343, a world that John and his team had visited several times in the past year for trading. They had a good rapport with the rather shy and reclusive people. Lorne's first visit there proved to be unproductive, and they really needed the food and herbs that the Godarrian's provided. But they had remained hidden to Lorne and his team. So Lorne had requested that Teyla and Ronon be allowed to join them on their next visit.

To her credit, Elizabeth had run the idea past John first. His immediate reaction had been jealousy, but after making himself chill out, he realized it was a good idea. Lorne needed the help, and Teyla and Ronon deserved a chance to go back through the gate. They had done their time, and then some, watching over both John and Rodney. So John had given the okay, assuring both Elizabeth and Carson that he could handle Rodney on his own. That playing fetch and carry for the scientist wouldn't wear him out unduly.

Rodney had protested at first, more because John had made him sound like a slave driver or something, but even he had agreed that Ronon and Teyla needed some time away from them both. Besides which, Ronon and Teyla would only be gone for three days tops. And, truth be told, John liked the idea of being there for Rodney. He needed to feel needed and useful. It had been too long since he had felt as if he were pulling his own weight. Watching over his friend would be a test for them both.

It had been almost amusing, the way Teyla had been reluctant to actually walk through the gate. Ronon had ended up pushing her through. John had been tempted to go after her. He had gotten used to her calming presence, but he knew they all needed this time apart. He reminded himself that it was only for a few days, then he distracted himself by asking Rodney if he needed anything.

Rodney needed alot of things, throughout the course of the day. He kept John on the run, so to speak, from after breakfast till supper time. Supper was trays of lasagna with cake for dessert, that John brought back to their quarters. Only he ended up dozing off instead of eating.

"Hey!"

John jolted awake at the sound of Rodney's voice. "Wh-what?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes and trying to blink Rodney into focus. "What's wrong? What do you need?" He felt discombobulated and he hated that feeling.

Rodney was eyeing him with concern. "You nearly did a face plant into your lasagna," he stated, pointing at John's plate. "You're supposed to eat it, not wear it."

"Yeah...I know." John stifled a yawn behind one hand. "Sorry."

"I wore you out." It was a statement not a question, and Rodney looked upset as he said it.

John shook his head. "No, you didn't. I'm fine."

Rodney didn't look convinced. "I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you to do so much. You're not strong enough."

"Stop it!" John's voice was sharp with anger and he winced at the tone. He softened it as he continued. "I wanted to help you today. I owe you, Rodney. And don't worry. I'm tired...but it's a good tired. I feel like I finally did something useful." He wasn't sure how else to explain it. "And...I got to pay you back at least a little."

"Pay me back for what?" Rodney looked confused.

John pushed his tray off to the side and faced his friend, but with a bit of reluctance. He didn't like talking about himself, but he figured he owed Rodney, just this once. "I don't remember everything that happened to me back on Earth, but I know that you were there with me. I know that you were there for me, every step of the way, and I'm not sure if I ever really thanked you for that."

Rodney shook his head, his cheeks flushing a bright pink. "You don't have to thank me. I didn't do anything. In fact, I failed spectacularly at protecting you!" There was anger and self-recrimmination in Rodney's tone.

"Don't." John had to stop him from going there. "You did more than enough, Rodney. I mean it." He mock-punched McKay on the chin till the other man conceded to look at him. "I owe you my life...again. Thank you." John meant it.

"Yeah...okay. Sure." It was an awkward moment and Rodney didn't handle them any better than John did. Maybe even worse. He pointed his fork at John, who was trying to hide another yawn and failing. "Go to bed."

John stared at him in disbelief, after glancing at his watch. "Are you kidding me? It's barely seven o'clock!"

"Your point being?" Rodney was rolling his eyes at him. "You're falling asleep sitting up. I wore you out to the point where you're too tired to eat. Which is bad if Carson finds out."

"He's still bitching about me not gaining any weight this week as it is," John allowed, but he was getting off topic. "Look, I'll doze while we watch a movie."

But Rodney shook his head at him. "Go to bed or I'll call Carson and sic him on you."

John overplayed being stunned, making it into a big, dramatic, moment. "You wouldn't do that!" he mock protested, all the while knowing that Rodney would do just that. But he would do it with good intentions.

"I would," Rodney replied, too solemnly, playing along. But the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Fine." John gave in gracefully, because he really was tired enough to fall asleep with his eyes open at this point. "But let's get you settled in bed first."

Rodney snorted, now brandishing his fork at John like a mini pitchfork. "I'm in a walking cast now, Colonel. I can hobble to bed on my own just fine. I only let Teyla help me and fuss over me because...well...I like it. It's...kinda nice when she does it." He made the confession a bit reluctantly.

But John appreciated his honesty, and he understood it. Teyla had a way about her that was comforting without feeling overly mothering, the way Carson could sometimes be. Motherly in a smothery way, that was Beckett at times. Although he always meant well, and had their best interests at heart. So John nodded and pushed off the couch, reaching for his tray.

"I'll take care of them," Rodney said, swatting John in the arm. "Go to bed!" It was clearly an order.

"Yes, mom," John drawled, grinning when Rodney scowled at him. He staggered to his room, assuring Rodney that he was fine and not about to fall on his face. Then he sleepwalked into the shower, washed up and pulled on sweat pants and a tee-shirt in something of a daze, before crawling into bed. John was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

But he started dreaming immediately.

He saw images of places and faces. He knew some of them, remembered others. He found himself in the white room, the walls dripping red, staining the floor and his hands. It felt so real, the way the warm redness slicked his palms. Blood warm, yet he ached with coldness.

Then pain was inside him, rushing through his veins, twining its way around every muscle, tapping a staccato beat in his skull. He screamed until his throat was raw. Screamed until he woke up, gagging, his throat feeling raw, but burning all the more when he made it to the bathroom and threw up until it felt like his insides were coming out.

As he stumbled over to the sink and rinsed his mouth, he realized he was scared. He just didn't know what he was scared of. But there was something he had to find. Someone, maybe. So he reached out to Atlantis, letting her guide her out of the room and into the shadowed hallway.

OoO

Rodney jolted awake, forgetting where he was and sitting up so fast he knocked his laptop off his lap. Luckily it slid off sideways, onto the couch. He righted it then pulled the ear buds from his ears, wincing at how loud the music still was. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but it wasn't much of a surprise that he had. A glance at his watch showed him that it was 3am. He should have gone to bed hours ago.

Stretching as best he could, Rodney then took a moment to wake up a bit before pushing up to his feet. He was still a bit unsteady with his walking cast, and he didn't want to risk taking a spill and doing further damage. Not when Carson said he was healing nicely.

Sheppard's room was before Rodney's, and it was habit now to pop in and check on the Colonel. Having expected to find Sheppard sleeping peacefully, Rodney was shocked to find himself staring at an empty bed. He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes, hoping he was just too tired to see straight. But the bed was still empty, the sheets and blanket twisted and hanging off the end, as if Sheppard had been restless.

"Bathroom!" Rodney whispered, hoping he was right and Sheppard had just gotten up to use the facilities. But the bathroom door was open as he hobbled over to it, and the lights were off. No surprise then, when he flicked on the lights, that the room was empty. "Where the hell are you, Sheppard?" Rodney hissed to the empty room. Moving as fast as he could back into the livingroom, Rodney scooped up his radio. He hated to wake up Elizabeth, but he didn't have a choice.

A moment later, Elizabeth's sleepy voice came over the com link. "Rodney? Do you know what time it is?"

He couldn't swallow a snort of derision at that. "Of course I know what time it is, and I'm sorry to wake you. But...um...Sheppard is missing."

"What?" There was clarity in Elizabeth's tone now. "What do you mean, he's missing?"

"Just what I said," Rodney shot back, having moved to hover in the doorway to Sheppard's room after making a circuit of the rest of the quarters. As expected, Sheppard was no where to be found. "The Colonel is missing, as in, not here in his rooms. Gone. Disappeared."

"I get it, Rodney!" Elizabeth's voice cut him off sharply. "I'll send a team out to look for him."

Rodney nodded, forgetting that she couldn't see him. "I'll get on my computer and hook into the main frame and use the life signs detector to see if I can find him."

There was a moment of silence, then Elizabeth said firmly, "We'll find him, Rodney. He'll be okay."

"Sure." Rodney wasn't about to admit he was worried. He was tired of worrying about Sheppard, the damn fool. He tapped off and headed for the couch. Typing furiously, he connected to the mainframe and worked his magic. It took some time to track down the various, individual, life signs. But he finally narrowed it down and contacted Elizabeth.

"Have you found him, Rodney?" she queried, sounding anxious.

He almost laughed at the question. Why else would he be contacting her? But he realized she was asking the obvious because she was just as worried as he was. Sheppard was going to get a new asshole reamed for him for this stunt. No doubt by both him and Elizabeth. "Try the Jumper bay," Rodney told her. "I'm showing one, non-moving, life sign." The non-moving part worried him. A lot.

Elizabeth seemed to catch on to that. "I'll send Carson with a team. Thank you, Rodney. Stay put and I'll call you when we get him." With that she tapped off.

Rodney sighed as he tossed his ear piece onto the coffee table. Sheppard had been doing so well. Whatever was going on with him now, Rodney hoped it didn't set him back again. He wasn't sure that any of them could handle starting over again. He was pretty sure he couldn't.

Feeling too maudlin and almost sick with worry, Rodney focused on his laptop and tried to distract himself by working on some power fluctuation formulas. But in the end he couldn't focus, so he set the laptop aside and hobbled out of the room. He needed to see Sheppard with his own eyes.

OoO

John felt anxious and jittery, and it was only his connection to Atlantis that kept him sitting still in the pilot seat. Well, that and the fact that his legs felt like rubber. He had wandered around the city for two hours, searching for something he couldn't find. Mainly because he really didn't know what he was searching for. He had ended up in Jumper One, wanting to go somewhere, but not knowing where it was he needed to go.

At one point he had blacked out, waking up to a sense of panic just a few minutes ago. He didn't have a radio on him and he wasn't sure who he should contact. If he woke Elizabeth up, what would he tell her?

"John?"

Apparently he was going to find out anyway. Turning in the seat, John wasn't all that surprised to see Elizabeth and Carson approaching. "Hey," he offered in greeting.

Elizabeth reached him first. "Rodney found you gone and he's not happy about it. What are you doing here?"

"I don't know." John couldn't hold her gaze. He started when fingers closed over his wrist, only to realize it was Carson checking his pulse. "I'm not hurt," he said firmly.

"I'm just making sure you're all right, lad," Carson countered, just as firmly. He didn't look all that satisfied with his results. "I'd like to take you to the infirmary and run a few tests," he stated.

John shook his head, regretting it as pain spiked in his temples. He'd been working on a humdinger of a headache for a while now and it had finally taken hold. It felt like a vice grip had latched on to his skull and was crushing it. "No infirmary," he insisted. "I'm okay."

Carson sighed. "You don't look okay."

"Look," John began, only to be interrupted by Elizabeth's radio beeping.

She tapped it. "Weir here."

"Major Lorne's IDC is coming through, but we can't get verbal contact with him," Chuck informed her.

"Something must have happened," Elizabeth stated. "Open the gate!"

"NO!" John jumped to his feet, lurching to one side and grabbing the back of the seat to remain upright. "Don't open the gate! Something's wrong!"

Elizabeth stared at him like he had three heads. "What are you talking out, John? If it's Lorne's IDC, then he and his team are coming in. What's the problem?"

John locked eyes with Elizabeth, willing her to believe him. "They aren't due back for two days and we can't talk to them. Something's wrong. Atlantis feels it too. You can't open the gate."

There was a long moment of silence between them, finally broken by Chuck.

"What do you want me to do, Dr. Weir? Open the gate or not," he asked.

"Don't open the gate," Elizabeth ordered. "But stand by." She tapped off, facing John and focused on him completely. "What's going on?" she prompted.

John wished he could tell her, but it was hard to explain something he didn't understand himself. "I don't know what's wrong, but something is. Atlantis is warning me, and I had dreams. I came here searching for something."

Carson looked intrigued. "Searching for what?" he interjected.

"Damned if I know." John sighed and rubbed at his temples.

Elizabeth looked about to argue with him, when Rodney's voice filled the air.

"We have a problem!" Rodney stated, his voice crackling with fear.

"What problem?" Elizabeth asked, after tapping her ear piece.

Rodney cleared his throat then said, "I'm getting energy readings spiking all over the place. It's weird. Really weird."

John knew what it was. "That's Atlantis. She's running checks and trying to...um...keep us safe."

"What the hell is going on?" Rodney demanded, and he asked the question from the doorway of the jumper. He had a hand held sensor in one hand and he was alternately glaring at it and Sheppard.

"Good question," Elizabeth replied, looking dead on her feet. "The Colonel has yet to give me a satisfactory answer."

The first thing John did was apologize to Rodney. "Sorry if I worried you. I had a dream and...I don't know...something's wrong. Atlantis can feel it too."

Chuck interrupted them again. "We have an incoming message, Dr. Weir. I think you might want to see this."

"We're on our way," Weir said, tapping her earpiece. She looked at John. "Maybe it's Lorne."

"Maybe," he allowed. He was worried about the major and his teammates. John couldn't shake the bad feeling that was curling in his stomach. Something was terribly wrong. He let Carson steady him as they made their way out of the jumper bay and into the nearest transporter. The way Rodney was glaring at him wasn't helping matters any either. "I really am sorry," John whispered to him.

Rodney harumphed, arms folded over his chest, expression grim. But a moment later he slumped and nodded. "Yeah, I know. But stop doing stuff like this. You're giving me gray hairs!"

John didn't respond to that because they had reached their destination. A moment later they were grouped in front of Chuck's console, eyes locked on the video screen. It flickered then Lorne's face came into view. His pale and battered face. Before anyone could respond, Lorne was pulled away and Ronon stood in his place, just as battered. A moment later it was Teyla staring at them.

"Oh my god..." Rodney whispered, looking horrified.

"Gods are funny creatures," drawled a deep voice from the screen. Then a familiar face appeared.

John felt the air leave his lungs in a rush, feeling like someone had slugged him in the solar plexus. He stared at the face then breathed, "Kolya."

**THE END**

_Authors' note: _I know what you're thinking. "This is not an ending. What's wrong with you guys?" And you're right, it's really not. This was turning into the Neverending Story, so we decided to cut it into two stories. I wanted to end this one with chapter 23, but Merlin thought we should leave you at a cliffhanger, like the show does. So we went with that. The story will pick up with the sequel (of sorts) called Fade to Black and we should start posting in a few days – I just need to some proofing and minor repair work. Thanks to everyone still reading and/or reviewing. Bye, ya'll.


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